The Stash And My Captain Boomerang
by beautifulramblingbrains
Summary: Money makes us do some weird things. And Unicorns are his fetish.
1. Chapter 1

**A little something before we begin.**

 **I haven't seen the film yet because my life is too hectic so I'm just going off what I've seen elsewhere and what I imagine.**

 **This will be AU or an alternative story, whatever you want to make of it really.**

 **Of course Jai Courtney as Boomerang. ;)**

 **I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

I don't hate my life…

I just sometimes hate the people in it. The people I've dedicated to serve. The hours I've signed my life away to. My boss, and the dwindling numbers of my bank account…

I'm the waitress behind one of the many bars in Gotham, dutifully plastering an obscure smile on my face while trying to divert my nose from the intoxicating scent of many frequenting customers who usually tend to lean too far over my safety gauge of the bar.

The room is clammy, dimly lit and swirling with the distinct smell of turned beer laden beneath the red and blue swirling carpet. The fact that I just committed myself to extra hours working mainly weekends is somewhat depressing, but maybe by the end of next month I'll be able to eat something other than tinned beans and rustic tap water. It's ironic, paying for an apartment you're never in.

"Glasses, Eunice." I roll my eyes, hating the way my name would be spat out of the larger woman's mouth. I loathe being called by my full name.

Carol barrels past me to a customer, then to the taps before knocking my elbow on her way out-back. "Now, please," she adds though it's said very acid-like. I nod, keeping my trap shut and open the heavy topped bar to step out. Her pleasantries were few and far between and I wasn't going to test her mood.

It doesn't take long, and I'm an expert bum-pincher-dodger, before I'm back behind my barrier, finishing the glasses from the dishwasher I was readily doing before she interrupted me. I'm safe here, or so I think, until Carol stops dead in front of me. "You've got a call, and what have I told you about personal calls in working hours?" She squints her dark, beady eyes at me. At times, I think it makes her look more like a Tim Burton character than a real person.

I want to react and express at how much of my time is spent here or sleeping whenever I can in my apartment when I'm not here. I want to say I dropped my brick of a phone and smashed it last Thursday and can't afford to buy another. I want to say I need a pay-rise.

But I need this job, so instead I settle for nothing but compliance. "I'm sorry Carol, just having a little trouble with a few things." I slide past her and go out-back to the small hooked up phone on the wall. "Yes?"

" _Yeah, er, hi. It's the guy from the garage_." There's a screeching sound in the background, banging and clanging and I somehow think if I press the receiver harder against my ear that I'll hear him better. " _You've blown the gasket_."

"What!?" I throw my hands to my greasy brown hair, running my fingers through the end of the ponytail. "I sent it in with a small coolant problem!" I settle for violently pinching the bridge of my nose rather than slamming the receiver against the wall and imagining his face.

" _Listen Ma'am, your car's old, and if you want some half-decent advice, I'd say scrap the damn thing. Find one of those suppliers who give you a hundred bucks or something for it. Me, I wouldn't pay fifty._ "

" _Shiiiit_ …" I sigh in utter defeat. Looks like I'll be taking the bus in the foreseeable future. "Can you hold it for me till I figure something out?"

" _You mean park it on the side of the road outside? Yeah, sure, I don't think it's gonna go very far_." He faintly chuckles in my misery. " _Listen it's late, Friday night workshop is finished and I've got a growling stomach to feed_."

I nod absently, knowing about that all too well, even though he can't see the movement. "Thanks for your help." I slam the phone down and lean back against the cold wall, willing my bad luck to end at some point in my life.

I jump with a startle as Carol suddenly enters, throwing down her apron that she can't physically do up around her belly anymore. "I'm outta' here."

I should have seen this coming. "It's Friday night? You know we get busy." I try to point out.

She shrugs carelessly. "And you know I got things to do. Make sure you put the alarm on when you leave." It's pathetic her telling me how to close the bar up; I do it practically every night anyway. But to be fair, with her gone, I can relax a little more.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

She doesn't say goodbye, just walks passed me. To her, I'm nothing but an annoyance, but an annoyance she needs to keep her bar running. I watch her walk all the way out the back, down the long corridor and out through the fire exit without any second-thoughts. Maybe I should've told her I could see her bum crack; knowing her, she wouldn't give a shit.

I re-enter to the bar, scooping up any glasses as I go on the side. It's not too busy, not as busy as it usually was for a Friday, but perhaps someone is finally looking over me right now and taking pity on my poor worthless soul.

The steam from the dishwasher rises up when I open it; it's halfway through a cycle to which I didn't realize Carol had even turned it on. I wouldn't put it past her as a form of malice.

The water drips down the sides and begins forming a puddle onto the floor. I reach for a dish cloth from the side and tug it harshly to only have had a customer put a glass on, to in my despair. It smashes millimeters from my head and I swear I'm close to tears. "Oh, fuck it!" I slam the door of the dishwasher and throw the cloth to the ground, rubbing my forehead furiously.

"Rough night?" Sounds from somewhere around me, and my head is still violently pumping. I can't bring myself to look.

"Try rough year… years…" I finally settle for. "What can I get you?"

"Just a good beer and summit for the pretty lady."

I look now, mainly because of his strange accent I don't usually hear, and also because I'm looking for a woman. My eyes land on just a scruffy looking guy with thick lamb-chops and a dark colored beanie. He sees my quizzical gaze and smiles cockily, exposing a gold tooth.

"I was talkin' about _you_ ," he says grittily and hugely suggestively. Like I haven't heard all the tricks and disastrous lines in the book. I pour his pint in silence and he gives me cash. In the passing, I notice he has gloved hands and because of my staring, he flexes them. "Ya wanna tell me about it?"

"With you?"

"No with me Ma outside," his voice gets a little gruffer. He takes a long swig and slams the glass down on the counter, his eyes closing while he savors the taste.

I shiver at his crudeness, responding lightly, "No, thanks," while trying to recoil away to the furthest part of the bar.

"I want another, doll." He motions before the first one is finished and before I have time to get away. "Keep 'em comin'."

"Maybe you have had a worse night than me…" I trail off, now polishing glasses around me rather than seem overly interested. Maybe he's ex-military; he looks too beefy to be homeless and the drinking suggests some type of trauma… Or maybe he was of the gang guys we see regularly in these parts and I'm just a fool.

I slide the fresh glass to him, and it makes him look at me. "What's ya doin' in a place like this?" The dim lights make the shadow around his eyes darker, almost highlighting the fact he's completely filthy, but there is no shame there. He doesn't look away, almost smiles again at me. In his own confidence, I find myself a little willing to talk.

"I guess you could say I drew the short straw in life."

"Someone's gotta take the bottom while others ride the top." It was a two-way answer and he's still smiling. It's so stupid I actually bring my hand up to my mouth and hide the chuckle. "There, I got ya."

"Okay, you win that one." I wipe the sides of the glass I'm holding down with a cloth, taking someone's order in-between and I can feel him watching me.

He sniffs, turning in his chair in the direction I'm going and playing with the collar of his trench coat, waiting patiently for the person to leave before speaking. "Hey'er, you got a boyfriend?"

I shake my head. "No, and I'm not looking either." But he still seems pleased with my reply. "You?" I smirk.

He nods in appreciation, sucking in his bottom lip. Underneath all the dirt and hair, there is something strangely attractive about him. "Ah nice, yeh not just made of stone then."

"And you're not my type…" Saying the words out loud almost help me confirm them in my mind. But it wasn't a lie either, usually my tastes fall on guys with no facial hair, pristine appearances and the asshole kind of persona. Maybe that's where I'm also going wrong.

Something ignites in his eyes suddenly, like a challenge, a thrill, and he shifts more in his seat. He downs the rest of his beer and wipes his mouth on his jacket sleeve. "Yah gonna tell me what's happened?"

I almost forgot he asked and my mouth opens then closes a few times before I pick the right words. "My boss hates me. My car hates me. Money avoids me, and I'm stuck in a never ending black hole." I shrug at him while he squints at me. "You asked remember?" I unthinkingly go to take his glass, but he keeps a hold of it so I have to touch him. My fingertips brush against his hand but I stupidly don't let go. "Did you… want another?"

"That all depends if yeh gonna take one with meh this time."

"I don't drink on the job, and I especially don't drink beer." He lets go of the glass but shakes his head at another beer.

"Give us a little somethin' harder." In his inside pocket, there is a wodge of notes he files through before landing a few on the bar. "Go on, live a little."

I cave after a brief moment, mainly because Carol's not here and he has an evil influence that is hard to resist. His eyes light up when I place down two glasses and fill them with a random amber liquid.

"Good girl," he drawls, grabbing at the glass. "All in." He clinks the side of my glass and we shoot it at the same time.

The alcohol doesn't affect him at all, but it does me. It burns and my whole face scrunches up as I feel it running down my throat. I hear him chuckling.

"So what do I call ya?"

"My name is Eunice. But you can call me Euna." I smile, watching as he seems to be taken aback.

He leans forward, motioning me to lean in, so I do. " _Euna_ , like in… _Eunacorn_?" he whispers.

My face couldn't be any more perplexed than it is now. His features darken at me and I realize his eyes are a strangely faded kind of blue, but the pupils are blown.

"I guess…"

Leaning away to get out of his intensity, he grabs my hand, slapping something into them before walking away backwards.

"Ya call me Digger," he points an index finger towards me then leaves me standing confused, watching him leave in all his trench coat-beanie-booted glory. In a way, I didn't actually want him to go; he helped kill the time. I wonder if he knew that he made my evening that little bit more bearable.

But the evidence he knew is solidly in my hand.

I open it up to 500 dollars.

* * *

The next morning, I wake up earlier than I usually would.

Usually, I'd sleep in so I could skip a meal and not spend money. Alternatively, it also saved on my electricity bill too. But I blew that first thing when I turned on the small box TV to watch crap, everything else seemed to just come as a package after.

And that's how I find myself outside a coffee shop, almost forcing my way inside and out of the rain and dark clouds that hover over the city. I flap my umbrella by the door and stroll to the counter, for once feeling like I belong with the stash of money in my bag. However, I find it strange when somebody else serves me; usually it's me in their position.

"Latte, extra cream. Oh, and a blueberry muffin." The lady smiles as she takes my order. Their TV, sitting on the counter behind the barista, which is on low in the background, is similar to mine at home, and I focus in on the overly white smile of the male reporter. At the bottom it reads 'Bank robberies and jewel thefts in Gotham city being investigated by police' repeating over and over on a yellow strip as he speaks, so I guess that's what he's reporting about. My latte arrives along with my muffin causing me to look away and I find a neat little table in the corner by the window.

This extraordinary breakfast is going to be savored. Every single crumb and drop of it. The first sip has me humming in absolute delight and bunching my shoulders up as I let my eyes close.

A bang on the window has almost the entire cup ending up in my lap and I frown at the person, only to be caught in surprise.

Lamb-chops waves at me with a huge grin, and then I realize he's coming in.

Shit.

He's not like the folk in here. Everyone almost drops silent as he enters while he just peers around the room with indifference. He makes his way over, and the first thing he does… he leans over me and chomps a huge mouthful of my muffin, straight off the top.

"Hey!" I protest but he just slings himself down in the seat opposite me.

"Glorious," he says through his mouthful, wringing out his beanie while crumbs spray the tabletop. "Weather's fantastic here." I want to take back any remotely nice compliment I may have had about him. He's a complete brute paying no mind to the huge puddles he's causing, but it's kind of entertaining in way and I hide my grin from him.

"You couldn't be more sarcastic if you tried." I sit a little more slack when he seems to relax and I sip my drink again. I watch him over the brim of my cup secretly. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugs a shoulder, rain still clinging to his jacket running downward with the movement. "Saw yeh and thought yah looked lonely. Don't mind me?"

"No," I say without thinking only to find he was actually talking about my muffin because he eats almost half of it.

"It's been a long night," he rudely talks with his mouth full some more.

I snatch the rest out of his hand and glare at him. "That was mine, and I'm asking why you are in this part of town."

"Why are _you_ in this part of town?" He taps the table expectantly, wiggling his eyebrows.

Leaning forward, I copy the tone he uses. " _I_ live here. What's your excuse?"

"I live here too." Then he laughs. "I'm only pulling yah leg. I was just around…" I can see him eyeing up a woman to our right, her skirt dangerously high. It makes me overly conscious of my baggy jeans and sweatshirt along with my unbothered hair, so I down my latte.

Already pushing myself to my feet, I mutter, "Right, well good to see you, and hope you find what you're looking for in Gotham."

"I've found it; I just don't know what to do about it." His reply has me stop in my gathering of personal belongings and staring at him. "See I got this friend, who's havin' a bit of bother."

"A friend?" I say sarcastically, laughing a little. I almost can't believe someone like him has a friend. But he moves his elbows onto the table and hunches over it towards me. He smells like my blueberry muffin.

"He lives in a dangerous city, his life is questionable, and he really likes unicorns."

I sit back down. "Sounds like a bad nursery rhyme." I play with the froth left over on my cup as I talk, eyes downcast.

"Yeah, yeah it is," he says rustically, the words grumbled low. "The thing is there's a feisty little Sheila thrown into his mind by accident."

I look up and he's smiling, then a delicate hand lands on my shoulder.

"Euna?" says the petite blonde that is suddenly next to me.

Digger finishes with, "Corn," under his breath.

I squint at the blonde for a while then realize it's a woman who lives in the same complex as me. "Oh, hey." I don't know her name, she's new. I'm mainly entertained by the way lamb boy looks between the two of us in utter joy, his eyes roaming over her clothes; her very flattering top accentuates her breasts and her tight jeans cling to her thighs and butt. He doesn't do that to me and I find myself frowning.

"You said you were too busy for coffee mornings?" I remember her name now, Chloe. Chloe from the first floor. "And you're here, what do you know…"

I try to force a smile but it's definitely more of a grimace. "Yeah… life's funny…" I try to fake laugh but I must sound like a pig as the two just stare at me. "But I usually am. I mean, I work nights…" Could I come across as anymore self-preserving right now? In between it all I'm blushing, and now I'm guilty, and… shit.

"I managed to persuade her. She's not dodging," Digger puts out there. He holds his hand out to shake hers, and he does so, roughly. "Nice to meet ya, love."

She's instantly curious. "And you are?"

"A friend…" He looks at me winking. "A very good friend."

My mouth drops open and I feel like throwing my stirring spoon at him. "We met at the bar where I work… _once_ ," I scowl.

"An I've regretted it ever since. She tried to kiss meh an it all went really awkward and we were just talking' it over. Don't mind do ya?" He doesn't wait for her reply. "Ta, love."

"Oh, yeah… well." She takes a step backwards. "I'll see you around. I hope you get it sorted."

My smile is painted on till she's out of ear shot and I kick him under the table. "Good one, doofus!" I grab my rain-coat, throwing it over my shoulders and now I feel like a giant sack of potatoes. I huff, looking down at myself, almost about to say something and realize it's not worth it.

"Ahh, c'mon… it worked didn't it." He follows behind me till I get to the door and I open my umbrella. He pushes his way under and tries to hold it for me. "Ya really think she'd have given up unless it was awkward?"

Yanking the umbrella from him, I leave him in the rain. "I look desperate."

" _Desperately_ hot when angry."

"I look like a sack of POTATOES!" I yell. A person walking past, steps to one side to get away from us. Looking at him sharply, he's hiding a smile under his hand as he rubs his thick fingers through his facial hair. "Why are you following me? Haven't you got someone else to… I dunno, annoy?"

"But yah so satisfying."

"Grr!" My throat hurts from my threatening growl. My fists bunch up and I blush furiously.

He looks up the street before he does me again; I'm obviously not scary in the slightest. "I was on my way to somewhere when I saw yah, I'm not followin' yeh."

"Well keep going."

"Harsh, doll. Listen, there is one thing I can help ya with, if you're willing, and if you stop being so deliciously feisty."

I start walking away, calling over my shoulder, "Not interested."

"Ya want money, right?"

I stop, remembering the feel of the 500 dollars in my hands. Biting my lip, there was no reasonable voice in my head telling me to walk away because he was more than right. I need the money and with the small taste of freedom this morning with what he gave me the night before. I really don't want it to end. I turn, announcing, "You have one minute to explain, then I'm walking away."

He pockets his hands, taking small steps so he can speak lowly. "I need someone I can trust. Can I trust you?" With the words sounding sincere and the frown on my face, it pushes him on. "I need a stash. Somewhere I can store a few bits."

I frown. "What _bits_ are we talking about?"

"Nothing bad… just personal things."

I should've taken the glint in his eye as a lie, but I'm beyond desperate with now not having a car. I look down the street then back to him. "And you're going to pay me to store them for you?"

"Yep." I stare at the droplets of water forming on his beard. We are both thoroughly soaked by now despite my umbrella, and it causes me to sniff, hastening my decision.

"So…" I squint at him, moving closer. "Does that mean you're going to know where I live?"

He blinks at me if it was a really stupid question, it probably was. "I'd need to know. I'm not guessin' 'ere."

I sigh. "Well then, there are house rules," I say quickly, before he gets any ideas. He seems amused. I've basically just accepted the offer without really saying it. "You can't just turn up… I have a social life…" I lie. "And you don't touch my stuff." I really don't have a lot of stuff either…

"So, it's a deal?" He puts his hand out.

I hesitate for a fraction of a moment. Maybe this was the beginning to an end of my bad luck.

Swallowing down my self-reservations, I put my arm out, and hand in hand we shake. He almost crushes me in the process. "A little hard there, fella," I hiss and he loosens. "Better."

"Here, write your address." He hands me a scruffy, crumpled napkin from the coffee shop. This was his plan along.

Fetching a pen from my purse, I roughly scribble it, even though the rain is saturating the tissue. "I'll catch ya at the bar," he says distractedly, pocketing it, and then strolls off without another word.

Shit. What have I got myself into?

* * *

Digger didn't turn up at the bar and I'm furious at myself for relying on a deceiving man such as himself.

The whole journey home on the bus I cussed him down, hoping I never saw his stupid bearded face again, and received looks from the people surrounding me as I must've looked like a looney. It's just another thing to grumble about him—which, I'm doing, while brushing my hair viciously after my shower and in my lovely pink flannel pajamas.

He drew my hopes up and crushed them all in one day. Idiot... Moron... Shithead.

A knock on the door has me freeze. No one ever comes to see me and especially this late at night.

I trudge over and open it to the glinting gold tooth and a slanted body against the door frame. He peers down at my pajamas for almost an eternity and the embarrassment is raw.

"There's me little Eunacorn," Digger says.

I come to the conclusion that random visits are now in the contract despite my warning, and against my better judgment, I wave him inside

* * *

A/N

All chapters are currently being Edited by my lovely Beta, K. Riley

Big huge thanks to her, she does have a task!

Thank you to everyone too for following, commenting etc on this story!


	2. Chapter 2

He fills my tiny living space.

His shoulders are much broader than I remember and he's incredibly tall, at least a head and half taller than me.

I come to stand behind him while he busies himself in checking out my stuff, or lack of, and now I'm thinking maybe I should've tidied up, but then again he doesn't seem the type to be bothered by that type of thing.

"You didn't come to the bar." My voice snaps him out of his scouring and he turns, looking me up and down.

A smirk is growing across his face. "Did ya miss me?" he chuckles, then casually walks over to the couch and throws himself down on it, sighing. "Nice place."

"What happened to no unexpected drop in's?" I demand as I wrap my arms around myself, mainly because I'm not wearing a bra and he's staring at me intently, making me a little uneasy. No one's ever really been to my place; I'm too ashamed to bring anyone here.

"Expect the unexpected." He grumbles, before leaning over and grabbing the remote for the TV.

"What are you doing?"

He gives me a _'really?_ ' look before asking rhetorically, "What does it look like?" He licks his bottom lip, then without breaking eye contact, he switches on the TV with an enthusiastic push on one of the buttons.

"Oh no." I rush over, grabbing the remote and turning it right back off. "We only agreed for you to keep some stuff here, not move in. Now, get off my couch. You're filthy."

He's pouting as he whines, "Ah, C'mon. I thought we were mates?"

"Yeah, you're not staying here." I grab his arm, which is even thicker than first glance because I'm unable to fully hold his bicep and try pulling him at an angle. He still doesn't move. "At least wash before touching any of my stuff."

He nods at this, "You're right." He stands and I almost fall backwards at the sudden movement. He peels off towards my bedroom, shrugging off his trench coat and leaving it in a pile on the floor. "Be a doll," he calls over his shoulder as he disappears through the doorway.

"Hey! No you don't. I don't know where you've been." He doesn't listen to me, and when I follow him, he's now topless in the small bathroom that connects to my bedroom, just a trail of clothes in his wake. "Oh Jesus!" I instantly put a hand over my eyes and step backwards. He's ripped, that's for sure. He can barely turn around without knocking something over.

Something hits me in the face and I realize it's his pants. It knocks me off balance, fluffing my hair from the contact. "Fine," I say when I hear the shower running. I grab all his stuff into a bundle, including his beanie, and march into the living space, bundling it all in the washing machine apart from his trench coat that's still a crumpled mess on the floor.

"Ay!" I hear him shout when I press the start button and the water begins running. I know the shower has gone cold; serves him right.

"You asked for it!" I bite at my cheek in annoyance as he begins singing and I imagine him rubbing his armpits and using every little product I've scrimped to save.

In my aggravation, I go over to his trench coat thinking that it's going to need hand washing. I pick it up and it's beyond heavy, like he's pocketed rocks for the hell of it. Once I slip my hand inside, something sharp knocks my finger and I yelp. "What the—" I say to myself quietly, opening it up to see the inside.

Silver boomerangs sit clipped to either side to the inside pockets but I don't have time to think about it as I know he's standing behind me. I turn slowly, being met with a now clean, dripping Digger in my fluffy pink towel hanging dangerously low around his waist. Oh my god, he's got the defined V on his hips only male models and actors usually have!

"Found something did we?"

Fear rocketing through me, my flight reaction flares up because I know I'd be useless in a fight, especially against him. I throw the coat at him and then run towards the door, but he's fast, blocking me off and hunched over, ready to pounce if I run for it. "Stay away from me!"

"I'm not gonna hurt you, doll," he says taking a step towards me and upon instinct I sprint behind the couch. He circles me on the other side, a huge smile on his face as if this was a game and he didn't have secret weapons. "No point in runnin'. I'll catch you," he states grittily, laughing as I make a break for it again only to have him block me off, growling appreciatively at my attempt. He rounds the couch, so I try and jump over the top but he grabs my legs, forcing me to kick out at him.

Once I'm jarred against him and his hand clamps over my mouth, I still.

"Shakin' like a leaf," he whispers in my ear. "No screaming if I let ya go, you got that?" I nod and scream the moment his hand leaves my mouth, causing him to clamp down again. "Let me explain a little somethin'. But I can't if ya gonna be all banshee on me." I nod again, ignoring the way his naked chest is against my back and his breathing in my ear.

Slowly Digger's hand loosens, but hovers in case I try and cry out again. "What do you do? Why have you got those?" My voice is shaky, and I don't look at him, just grip his arm that's holding me against him, whether to prepare to push it away or use it as the thing holding me up, I'm not sure.

"If I told you I'm not one of the good guys, what would you say?" The words tickle against my ear.

I kind of guessed he wasn't exactly straight-laced. He was obviously involved in some sort of crime, but the less I knew the less it didn't bother me. But weapons bother me.

I swallow to attempt to get some kind of moisture back in my mouth before asking, "Do you… do you kill people?"

He throws his head back and laughs. "I'm a crook, Eunacorn, and sometimes people get in my way. What do you think?"

"You do don't you! Oh my god! I'm stuck in a room with a killer! HELP!" I begin shouting pathetically. Cowardly even.

"Can it!" He pushes me forwards. "Believe it or not, I'm not gonna hurt ya. I said that didn't I?" He runs a hand through his hair once I regain my balance and turn towards him. "Listen…" He leans forwards, placing his hands either side of the back of the couch, trapping me in. He scoffs to himself a little and speaks lowly. "…I would _never_ hurt my Eunacorn."

My eyes widen and I try leaning away as far as possible. I smell mint on his breath and I know he's used my god damn tooth brush! "Can you… stop calling me that…? It's weird."

Digger quirks a brow, leaning closer, "Does it get ya all hot an bothered?"

I put a hand out and he lets me push him away because I doubt I really could have moved him if he didn't want me to. With that ever so slight win, I slip my bum to the top edge of the couch, falling gracelessly back onto the seats. His face peers over at me, looking at me as if I'm a new toy, just for him. I squeak when he touches my ankle gently and he's smirking at my reaction while I roll away and onto the other side.

"This is a fun game, bub. But it's late…"

"You are not staying here!" I grab the remote of the TV and hold it up like a weapon as he comes for me again.

"Funny, well, ya sort of got my clothes tied up, so I ain't really got a choice."

"You can borrow the towel." I motion up and down him and he tilts his head at the stupid suggestion. He knocks the remote, pulling me forward and to the bedroom. "Lemme go!"

With one quick shove, I'm pushed through the doorway while he leans back to grab something. I run to get past him, but slam into his forearm that hooks me around my waist and he effortlessly lifts me from the ground. "I swear to god!" I pummel his back.

There's something silver in his hand and when he gets to the bed, the distinct _chink_ of something hitting against the bedpost makes me realize that it's handcuffs. The other end is on my wrist before I can make out the whole situation.

To add insult to injury, he grins down at me and says, "Now stay there like a good girl."

I think the worst but when he shuts the door, and I can hear the TV roaring, I finally relent to my situation, pulling at the cuffs for a further five minutes.

They don't budge.

I'm trapped and he's not letting me go, but he's not hurting me either.

I sleep awkwardly that night with one eye open and one arm in the air.

* * *

I'm dreaming while something begins itching my face. I throw a hand out and grumble something incoherent till my consciousness sets in.

I open my eyes wearily to Digger extremely close, but at least he's dressed this time. I scramble away to the other side of the bed and realize he's released me. I look up suspiciously and then frown. "I hate you."

"G'day to you to, doll. Now get dress, we're going for breakfast."

As if. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

He laughs. "You don't want me dressing you, do ya? I'm all for it though…" His eyes slide to my chest and I yank the blankets up to cover myself from his view.

"I'm fully capable. Get out." I point furiously. He saunters off and throws the door shut.

I rinse the toothbrush a million times before using it. Then scrunch my hair back into a ponytail. I open the bathroom door and peak out to make sure he's not there before entering back into my bedroom. The TV's still on, so I'm guessing he's still attached to my couch.

I grab clean underwear, a vest, jeans and hoodie, shoving them on as quickly as possible because the thought of him walking in on me bristles me more than I'd like.

I brace myself on the door handle, taking a deep breath before opening the bedroom door.

He pulls his eyes away from the TV and looks me up and down. "Yah got a hot bod, why hide it?" Digger leans forwards, placing his elbows on his knees.

"You've never seen my 'bod'," I retort using air quotations while squinting at him harshly. "And I'm happy how I am thank you."

"I felt it though." He winks.

I growl before looking for my coat, trying desperately to ignore his stupid face. "We going or what?"

"Don't sound too enthusiastic." He throws my jacket at me. "Ya used to like me remember?"

"Before I realized you were a psychopath," I say like a sulky child, throwing my arms in my jacket but pause when he steps in front of me, pulling the collar to shroud my face. He's good at faking sincere.

"But ya _still_ liked me…" He mumbles.

But this time his face is clean, no dirt under his eyes and the knocks and grazes he had on his face gone from the wash leaving little to none evidence. His eyes are slated blue, almost grey and I notice a small line on his forehead, associating it with him actually thinking rather than being a knuckle head.

His fingers work the poppers of my rain jacket that I don't usually bother doing up myself, but I wait patiently. When he reaches the last one, I bravely raise my hand and touch his.

I've had time to calm down, come to terms with the man that's pushed himself into my life. And maybe I'm just as crazy as the shithead before me. Our eyes meet when I feel brave enough to look at him, and it seems like he's questioning me.

His knuckles are rough, white thread lines webbed between fresh scabs, and I run my thumb over them, hinting for him to stop preening me. My smile is tight, but it's a start.

"I won't hurt you," his accent seems to lapse a little. "You just gotta be opened minded, can ya do that?"

"I'm still angry with you for cuffing me to the bed," I sulk and he juts his lip out at me.

" _Eunacorn_ …" he drawls. "Do you even realize the jollies you give me when you say things like that?"

I grimace. "I'd rather not."

He twists me on the spot with his heavy hands to face me towards the door. "Out with ya." He's somehow got my keys in his hand, locking my door like he owns the place. I snatch them immediately after he's finished.

And if things couldn't get any worse, the elevator lands on Chloe's floor and she steps in. Surprise is written all over her face before being replaced with a smirk. We must look quite the pair, Digger and I. It forces me to criticize my clothes all over again.

"Hello," she says in her sultry voice while wearing her sultry clothes with her sultry styled hair.

My voice has raised at least an octave when I force out an, "Oh…hey."

"Another coffee morning?" She looks Digger up and down, almost suggestively, and I can feel myself frowning open mouthed at her boldness. "I see you still have your friend with you. Did you guys make up?"

Digger slings his arm over my shoulders and I roll my eyes as he hugs me into his side tightly. "She's a keeper."

"He's…very persistent." I falsely smile up at him. I wonder what she would say if I outed everything that I'd learnt about this man within the last 24-hours. _Including_ the boomerangs which insist on jabbing me in the tit.

Thank god for the elevator calling us on the bottom floor. We all bustle out and Chloe gives a short wave. "Well, if you want to meet up still, let me know." But that wasn't for me, since her gaze had been on him. She totters off on her very tall, very thin heels, not before raking Digger up and down once more. I swear I see her wink.

"She's a feline that's for sure."

My voice comes out tight and clipped. "Whatever…" I walk off ahead of him, making him jog to keep up and putting his arm over me again. "Do you mind?"

"She wants to be your mate."

I shake my head, arguing, "She doesn't want to be my friend. It's typical for new neighbors to say 'Let's grab a coffee' but never do. It was just a means to a polite conversation. And she only said nice things to me back there as she was more… interested in you." 'Fucking you with her eyes' was the actual phrase I want to use.

"Why have a dog when I can have a Eunacorn?"

"Right!" I stop, pushing my palm against my chest. "Stop calling me that. That is not my name, and whatever you think…" I motion a finger between us, "…is happening here…I'll – I'll have you know it's not." He puts his hands on my waist, nodding with a cheeky grin, but it's like he really doesn't give a shit because he roughly drags me towards him - or doesn't hear me. "We're having breakfast… that's it… and you're- you're not staying again."

" _But we had fun_?" He says seductively.

"You ruined my bathroom, chased me around the lounge and then hand cuffed me TO MY BED!" That does sound kind of thrilling if I think about it. But maybe I should've watched my tone as an elderly couple passing us by practically gasp and run away hand in hand together. "AND THAT'S THE SECOND TIME I'VE DONE THAT!"

Digger's laughing as I push him away. "You're the loveliest sack of potatoes." I'm curious to how he even remembers that. I didn't think his brain was all that big.

Ignoring him, we come to the small café, just a street down from my place. Accumulating on my own annoying thoughts, I push the door without thinking, slamming it straight into a guy's take-away coffee and it spills down his crisp white shirt.

"Shit! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you." I put my hand to my mouth and then grab a bunch of napkins from the stand next to me to try to help him rub it off.

"You stupid bitch! You realize I have a meeting to-" He doesn't get to finish. I'm dragged backwards as Digger moves forwards, and he knocks the guy out in one hit. Before I can even rectify the situation, Digger grabs my hand and pulls me away.

"…Sorry," I say weakly to the unconscious body on the floor.

* * *

I stare at him with my arms crossed over our bacon and eggs. He eats like a ravenous animal, totally putting me off my food. It's safe to say we are in a different Café, a diner actually this time, further from where I live.

"You know I can't show my face in their again now, right?"

He shrugs lazily. "That bloke had the nerve gabbing off to yeh like that. He deserved it."

"So, do you go around knocking everyone out that gets in your way?" I mean it as a light-hearted rhetoric with a bit of honest curiosity but he suddenly sits back, wiping his mouth on a napkin, looking at me now with the first ounce of annoyance I've seen from him yet. "He might've been having a bad day?"

"Yeh expected me to apologize or summit?" He shrugs his jaw tensing.

He doesn't get to be angry with me after what he's done. "I don't know you." I hiss, leaning closer. "I don't know what you're capable of. All I've seen yet is rudeness, violence and idiocy."

"And _here_ you are. Sharing breakfast with scum."

"When I agreed to this, I didn't agree to have you take over my life." I sit back again; I'm so annoyed with him. What if I got into trouble for it? What if the police file for assault?

"And what life was that, sweetheart?" That hits me hard. My face even crumples up. He's right though, my life wasn't exactly peachy. "How I see it, is that you've had yeh first proper taste of fun and it scared ya shirtless."

"Fun?" I say incredulously. "Running away from people calling the cops… is fun? What if someone there knew me?"

"Can't live off of what ifs," he shrugs again.

"You're impossible."

"And you're a whingebag."

My mouth open and closes, then I gather my things. "I hope you… get arrested…" is the best insult I can come up with before storming away.

And to my surprise he lets me go.

* * *

It's absolutely pouring down out there. I can tell by the way most of the patrons arrive completely soaked, shaking out their jackets and ordering fiery drinks to help warm them back up.

Sunday nights are always quieter, usually just the regulars. I make stories about their lives about why they are here, or what their jobs are in my head to pass the time.

I don't get to leave until the last person is gone and it's a complete relief when they finally do. I didn't know that Digger had me up at 7 this morning, and I can feel myself yawning more and more often as the time passed.

If Carol saw my lack of enthusiasm she would kill me.

The time is 1:30 and I make one last trip around the entire bar before grabbing my coat and heading to the front. I set the alarm as always and wait till the metal grates lock at the bottom before pulling the key and walking briskly in the rain.

The only real sound is the splattering of the rain and plastic sound of my jacket moving against my bag. The stop is two streets away, but this time of night is always creepy, making me up my pace. Usually at this time is when the hell-hounds would come out and the drunks would be found face-planted on the pavement.

There're sirens in the distance and sometimes I can hear the beginnings of fights or arguments coming from somewhere, or from buildings above me. But much of the rain has blocked those noises.

It's only when I feel like someone's watching do I chance a glance behind me. It's just a black silhouette with a hat. He throws his arms out, saying something I can't quite hear, something along the lines of 'What's the rush' but I pretend I haven't seen him and keep walking.

Further up ahead, just at the neck of the street, another silhouette appears. My heart begins beating faster, my adrenaline kicking in and I cross the street.

But then they run at me.

I sprint, throwing my hands into it and go down an alley I know that crosses along the back of multiple shops. I turn right and the one with the hat obviously predicted my escape. When I turn back, the other is blocking off the other side.

I stand hopelessly between them as they close in, backing up against the alley wall. I'm stupid. This is why I have a car. I should've taken my chances with the main street; I might've had more of a luck.

As they get closer, I can see they're both young, no more than just turned twenties. As they approach, one reaches out to touch me and I flinch away. "Back off! My boyfriend was meeting me. He'll find me." I lie, hoping to convince them.

"It's always the same," one croaks out. The one with the hat has a smart striped suit on, a typical old fashioned styled hat. The other is more scruffy, a red bomber jacket and jeans. "My boyfriend's meeting me. I have a gun. I've called the police." He spooks me with a fake lunge. "I'm a virgin!" He squeals in a fake woman's voice.

"She's mighty jumpy," says red bomber. "This is gonna be great…" He sounds retarded, not all there, but he's closing in with a cackled laugh.

Men like this were common in these parts. I've heard the stories, but you always believe it's never going to happen to you.

Could my luck be any shitter?

I throw my hand in my bag for my phone but Bomber-Jacket grabs me, pinning me to the wall roughly by my own coat.

I recoil as far back as I can, then knee him directly in the groin, pushing him to one side to try and get away. I'm pulled back by my hair before I can take another step and land on the floor, smashing my head on the concrete with an _'oomph'_. The air knocked completely out of me.

I feel the hot trickle of blood before I finger the wound on my forehead and see the stains on my fingers.

"See how easily you bleed?" Pin-suit says. "It will become worse if you fight. Now be a good girl for us will you?"

I'm so dizzy I don't know which one is clambering on top of me. But I scratch at their arm and face dozily, trying to talk, but it only coming out in ragged breaths and nauseated splutters.

When I feel the weight of the body, it's like my last ounce of strength kicks in and I push back hard, fighting as much as I can and being awkward as I can make myself.

I finally get to see the young face of pin-stripe peering down at me, grinning, and the dreaded white hot sensation of fear seeps throughout me.

But he suddenly makes a weird expression at me, almost like shock. My eyes sting from the rain water hitting them, blurring his image. He's slack enough that I can rub my face, and then he slumps completely on top of me. I'm almost shocked into disbelief that there is what feels like a minute of time passing as I lie there.

I panic, pushing him off me and try to get to my feet, dizzy and staggering. The other is standing there, looking at me strangely and I peer down to the guy I was just fighting with. A silver flash glints in the guy's side.

The growl from bomber has me stepping backwards. But he doesn't get far. There's a whipping sound in the air, and his whole body is flung sideways and crashing back into the wall where he's pinned, gripping at the boomerang.

I'm caught before I fall, and I stare up to those slate colored eyes that have aggravated me over the last few days, but I couldn't be more relieved.

" _Digger_ ," I say woefully, pushing my head into his shoulder and nose against his jacket as I grip to him tightly in an embrace. He smells like leather that's damp from being outside too long. But I don't care, because I know he probably has, and that was just him.

My legs are swung up, and the swaying motion of him carrying me has me finally sob.

"There I got ya, Eunacorn."

He was there for me when no one else was.

* * *

A/N

Again, big thanks to K. Riley for sorting this chapter out! I dread to think where I'd be without her right now. Most probably under my bed quivering at the thought of edits!

Thank you all for your time; reading, reviewing, following etc!


	3. Chapter 3

There's something entirely sensational when wrapped up in somebody else's arms, especially arms that are as strong and possessive such as Digger's.

Like you can switch off and not worry or care, just concentrate on their movements and be a part of them for fleeting moment. It's a little sultry too if you listen hard enough to his jarred breath and think about where his hands cup the back of my thighs and side.

Despite the aching throb on the back of my head and the rain tipping down on us, I giggle.

"What's the joke?" His voice reverberates through his chest, the noise coming from just above me where I still push into him.

"I'm kind of ticklish," I admit. I think I may also be a bit delirious from the knock I took. His fingers curl and wiggle against me at my omission and I immediately thrash a little with my feet which are in the air. "Okay, okay." I whine before falling quiet for a moment.

We reach my complex and the lobby is empty, no noise echoing through the space except for us, which is good as I don't want anyone seeing me like this. And while we wait for the elevator, I feel better enough to talk. "Where were you?"

He shrugs slightly, answering evasively, "Around."

Of course with the blasé answers and secrecy, I should've guessed. "How did you find me?"

"Ya weren't far. It wasn't hard." As I peer up at him he looks down at me, his fingers tightening a little when the elevator dings and he steps inside. He looks absolutely drenched; his hair flat, his beanie sopping, but at the same time he's completely unbothered. There's a concentrative expression on his face as we ride the elevator to my floor. "We need you outta them clothes," he says while swinging my legs out of the elevator doors when they open and he marches the corridor with a little more intent. He leans up against the apartment and goes through my bag, finding my keys and lets us in, heading straight for the bedroom.

Slipping out of his arms and onto the bed my head throbs a little. I almost startle in response as his fingers pull out my ponytail and begin running over my scalp. He's surprisingly gentle. "Did you kill them?" The words slip out but I don't feel mad at him; they were nasty monsters of men that deserved it if he did.

Digger's fingers still and I let myself fall fully back onto my bed. "Would ya rather I didn't?"

So he just admitted in a roundabout way. I shake my head then wince as the pain intensifies for a moment. "I'm glad." I stare idly at my ceiling, eyes wandering over the small cracks in the paint.

He pops the few buttons of the bottom of my jacket, unzipping it, and I shrug my arms free while still lying on my back. I groan as he sits me back up, pulling my hoodie over my head. Next he yanks my trainers off and socks, but I grab his hand as they head for the top of my jeans. "Don't start bein' all proper with me." He knocks my hand, undoing my flies and gently pulls them down. "Ain't nothing I haven't seen before."

I just stare at him, unable to say anything as I begin to blush profusely and my stomach knots under his gaze. But it's a not at all suggestive, he's being genuine.

From the weather and the loll of adrenaline, I shiver. My teeth begin chattering. But his hands are warm as he squeezes my thigh and stands.

"Where—where are you going?" My voice breaking and I try and sit up.

He smiles gleefully. I would say he was almost happy that I cared. "Nowhere darl'. I'll be back." And he is, less than a minute later with a towel in hand, one corner dipped in water. He cleans my head gently - considering he's such an oaf. When I hiss he stops, steely eyes softening at me as he lets me lie down once more.

He exhales slowly while lowering off the bed onto his haunches to get to my level, pushing hair off my face. "Why do you work at the shithole? Surely there's somethin' else you could do?"

"In a city like this, there aren't many jobs…" I shrug. "I needed the work badly after my Grandma died."

"Where's the rest of your fam?" He asks in common curiosity. But my face drops as I think about my parents, and he knows instantly not to push. "Get some shut eye. Ya ding ain't bad."

"Thank you." Still crouched down beside me, he squeezes my hand in response.

In all his trench coat-beanie-boot glory, his large frame leaves to the light of the living space, but this time he keeps the door ajar, and I can just about see the edge of the couch.

I don't have time to contemplate whether he was staying or going, because my eyes close heavily.

That night I dream about him and his boomerangs.

* * *

The next morning, I sit up slowly; weary of the knock on my head. It isn't too bad.

Before I embarrass myself further, I throw my robe on that's hung on the back of my door and tip-toe through. The TV is on low and Digger's munching a bowl of cereal as he looks up. He instantly grins at me in greeting. "There she is."

I'm actually frowning at his food, wondering where he got it from but I figure it out once I look towards the small kitchen. Shopping bags litter my counters; only one is unpacked while the others are left full and bulging as he seemingly got distracted.

I peer inside at all of the goodies, prickling with excitement. "You've been out?" There's all sorts inside. I have no doubt these all his favorite foods.

Energy drinks, fruit, chocolate bars, pancakes… beer. I grin when I see a cardboard box of blueberry muffins and take one.

"Don't do well without food. Besides, looked like ya needed it." My cupboards are bare, or should I be saying they were bare since he went shopping, so I'm not complaining.

I sit next to him, my knees curled underneath me. "About last night-"

"Don't worry 'bout it." He looks at me, but then he's distracted by the TV too much.

Laughing at people making a fool of themselves and animals acting strange, he nudges me a few times to make me look.

We sit there in comfortable silence. But out the corner of my eye, I watch him.

* * *

Monday's are my nights off.

Digger left over two hours ago to collect something and said he would be back. As I sit in the silence of my apartment, having put away all of the food he bought, I realize there's nothing for me to do now. Strangely, I almost miss his company.

I've also already washed away the grime from last night and changed into nice and clean pajama shorts with matching vest, savoring every pajama/day-off moment. My hair is down and over my shoulders for once, it feels weird and I can't stop touching it.

There's a knock at the door and I race to get it in high hopes. I'm smiling widely at Digger till I see he's got five boxes on a trolley.

"What's this?"

He ignores me, pushing past and sets them down. "Stuff," he smirks, happy with himself.

"What kind of stuff?" Curiosity burning through me, I go to lift the top but he swats me away and I frown at him, rubbing at the superficial sting.

He catches my face in a hand and squeezes my cheeks till I pout. "Ay! Not for your eyes." He shakes my head from either side. "You look, I'll spank ya." The idea is kind of appealing. I then subconsciously kick myself from thinking like that.

"Spank me?" I scoff. "You can try bucko." My hip pops with my attitude and I lean my arm on it.

A thick brow rises on his forehead. "Shall we have a practice run?" His eyes glint playfully and I take step back. "Haven't had a go in a while…"

I'm backtracking as quickly as possible, my heart starting to pick up speed, whether with nervousness or anticipation I'm not sure, nor am I willing to look too closely at it either. "Erm, no…let's not. I'll…I'll - scream!" It's an empty threat and we both know it.

"You ain't got shit on me," he says taking a step forward. It's then I realize it wasn't a playfully look at all, but an absolutely deadly serious one.

"What are you doing?" I brace my arms in front of me in a show of mercy. "Digger?" But his arm twitches, and he goes to grab me. I manage to dodge at the last minute, wiggling a finger in his face " _No_ …" I drawl as if telling off a dog. "No, Digger. Down."

"I've decided I want to hear you say my real name." He's pushing me further and further towards the couch with each step.

"Digger's not your name?"

"You're a dolly bird ain't ya? You can't put two and two together to save your life." Again he goes to pounce but I manage to just slip backwards in time, landing on the couch. "Captain Boomerang." He announces with pride.

"Captain… _Boomerang_?" My laugh escapes through my gritted teeth that I clamped down trying not to laugh directly in his face. "I'm sorry! You want me to call you Captain Boomerang?" I laugh again.

" _Oh yeah_ …" He towers over me. My hand is still out to stop him but loosely in my amusement, and he hoists me up over his shoulder while I squeak. "Ya gonna say it."

Amusement is still clear in my voice as I retort, "I'm not calling you that, it's ridiculous." The first slap on my ass stings like a bitch. "Hey! Quit it!"

"I'll stop when ya say it."

"No." I cross my arms, even though I'm upside down and over his shoulder. He fakes letting me go and I scream.

"Say it."

"No!"

He slaps me again and then spins, dizzying and nauseating me all at the same time.

"Alright, alright. Fine! …But I'm only saying it once."

I can hear the smugness in his voice, "There's a good bird…Well?"

I begin laughing before I can, trying to cover my mouth. "Hello… Mr. Captain Boomerang."

"No, not Mr. Try again." He pats my ass, then rubs it and I squirm when he hums expressively. "Actually, you can stay up there all you want."

"Okay, okay… Captain Boomerang" He slips me down on his chest, almost purposefully.

Holding my hips against his, his hands begin to slide onto the small of my back. I lean away, trying to create distance. "Can I… shorten it to CB?" I'm being cheeky, I know, and I'm also rather breathless.

Digger's eyes are half hooded, and probably any other time that I know of from the past – and of the male species – it looks like he was almost about to kiss me. The thought is vivacious and I bite my lip and try to divert my gaze.

"Looking like that, you can call me anythin' you want," he purrs.

Somebody clears their throat and both of us shoot to across the room and to the doorway. My neighbor, Mr. Wright, shifts nervously looking at us just outside the door jam. Digger forgot to shut the door, not that I should be surprised.

I project away from him under my neighbor's scrutiny. "Oh, hello."

"You okay, dear?" Mr. Wright looks at Digger up and down and then gives a false smile at me.

I nod. "Yeah, this is-"

"Her boyfriend…" Digger marches over and holds his hand out. "The name's Digger." When they shake hands, he's incredibly enthusiastic.

"Andrew…" The older guy almost weeps.

"Nice to meet ya. But, er, we're kind of busy mate." He must wink at him as Andrew swallows. "So, g'day." He slams the door in his face.

I turn to him. "What the hell was that?" He gives me a look as to say 'what?' "My boyfriend now? You just decided, did you?"

He shrugs. "Give 'em something to talk about. Plus, it will stop him questioning me being here. Can't have that." He's back in my personal space and I realize he has no sense as to where to draw the line. "Listen, I got somethin' I need to tell ya."

"Great… there's a bomb in those boxes or something?" I cross my arms, speaking dryly.

I don't know what fazes me more, the raised eyebrow or the silence. "No. That's not it. I'm going out tonight to meet a friend."

That knocks me for a loop a little, and I can feel the pang of jealousy. Even though I had no right to be jealous. "A …friend?"

"Yeah, just some joint in town. Be late though. You wanna come?"

I don't like the way this is sounding. "Er, I dunno."

"Great. Wear something nice. Now let's eat."

We only ate three hours ago.

* * *

I don't really have anything to wear that would be considered 'nice'. But I do have a red fitted dress to mid-thigh I went for a date in once – about two years ago.

It feels foreign on me. I prefer my jeans and hoodie much more.

I pair it with black ankle boots and step out of my room to find Digger buttoning up a navy shirt. Upon closer inspection the white dots in between his shirt are boomerangs… Of course.

He's still got the grubby boots and jeans on along with topping it all off with his trench coat again, but I suppose it's different to how he usually looks.

When he finally looks up, his eyes widen. It's kind of flattering. "Crikey, you just made me rock."

The phrase has me frowning. "Excuse me?" Then I think about it. "Oh… _ohhhh_." I can feel my face heat at the backwards compliment. He throws his head back and laughs at my expense.

Sauntering towards me, he's rubbing his hands together before suddenly twirling me - even if it's forced. "My bloody little Eunacorn, you are a sight." He hums again, biting his lip. "I don't wanna go out."

"Okay that's enough…"

"I want to ram my head in between those legs…" He still continues, and now it's just dirty.

"Digger!" I say his name in scorn despite the image that comes into my head. "Stop it."

"I can't promise anythin', doll. And if I can say anythin', I think you're beginning to warm to me."

"Not in the slightest." I stick my nose up. "Now, can we go?" I storm over to my jacket and I'm glad for a little cover.

"After you…" He nods.

* * *

"We're going…to a _strip club_?!" I try to whisper but it comes out overly aggressive in my stress.

"It's low-key." Digger's not looking at me; he's looking at the bouncers by the door.

"You do know what they say about these places? Who owns most of them, right? …I'm dead… I'mdeadI'mdeadI'mdead."

All clubs similar to this are owned by the one and only king of the underground sleaze, The Joker. Most deaths, crimes and gang-brawls usually erupt around these parts and it's something I've always kept myself away from. But still the guy lives off the radar somehow. Gotham's policing is completely corrupted.

"Lighten' up," is the only response I get. I really don't feel confident. Actually, I'm mainly terrified.

I splay my fingers out through my fear, and grip onto the sleeve of his jacket as we walk.

We're waved through instantly into the acrid smoke and deafening low bass of the music. It's a corridor leading up to double doors and behind them blue lights flash and stutter to the rhythm. I watch as Digger pays and then leads us through.

'Low-key' would not be the term I would use. It's busy, really busy. The place is certainly too confidently alive for Monday night.

There are podiums with women in varying stages of undress on them and I avert my eyes, concentrating on Digger pushing past the many bodies of men. I yelp when an older man, drunk off his head, suddenly leans into me. But Digger shoves him back violently, knocking him into a table and a few other guys.

That's when my hand finds his. I tighten a secure hold onto him, and it's almost a relief when he responds.

He leads us over to furthest corner to a lone ordinary-looking guy sitting with a drink in front of him.

"My man!" Digger greets him with open arms, hugging the other guy in to one side.

The dark skinned man's eyes latch onto me and I give a weak smile. "Who's this?" He says sharply to Digger, almost completely ignoring me.

"My Eunacorn." It seems an efficient answer as he doesn't question it any further. When Digger sits, I do the same while quickly, nervously looking around. I don't know Digger's watching me till I feel a hand on my leg. "You're safe, doll. Relax."

A woman with no top on interrupts us and of course Digger's his usually over flirty and expressive self. I'm too on edge to talk or even think of a drink, so I'm glad when he does that for me.

He squeezes one last time, making me look at him. "I've gotta gab with him. I won't be long." He leans forwards, elbows on his knees, focus completely on the other man and I quickly down my first alcoholic beverage of the night.

I'm four drinks and two shots down when they finally finish, and I'm actually smiling towards one of the podiums.

"How you feelin', doll?"

The other guy gets up and just nods in his depart. I try and concentrate on Digger's face, but I can feel my crumpled frown in my attempt.

"I don't like him…" I say without thinking, eyes trailing after him, causing a snicker. "He thinks he's all bad… Well guess what… you ain't!" I shout after him even though he can't hear me over the thumping music.

"Feisty little Sheila…"

"And you…" I turn to him. "You've got some nerve!"

"Ay, hang about-"

"Bringing me here, getting me drunk." I try and stretch my mouth as I'm slurring too much and I know it.

"Ya drank one of mine, love. And the shot was meant for the drink…"

I shrug. "Who cares? You obviously don't!"

He's laughing at me…laughing! "You're a grown woman."

Damn right I am. I try to stand to announce my departure, but I stumble back into the seat. " _Shiiit_. I'm drunk, aren't I?" My voice is relatively returned to normal once my reality sobers me up a little. The blue of the lights dances across Digger's face, brightening the own color of his eyes. I jut my lip out. "You are so beautiful."

"Easy, love."

But I begin kneeling on the plush seat and crawling over to him, thinking it's a really good idea.

" _Eunacorn_ …" My name is said condescendingly. "…I think it's time—"

I straddle his lap, the alcohol coursing through my veins, and his hands directly gripping onto my hips as I lace my arms over his neck. He tilts his head back to look at me, but he's biting his lip. "Why do you have to be so bad?" I pout.

He growls at me, his fingers tightening as if trying to control himself. He leans forwards, my breath hitching. "Don't tell me you don't want a little bit of bad inside ya. I'm all for it, sweetheart. I'd fuck you senseless." The words are gritty and drawn. One of his hands roams up my neck, into my hair, and I sigh.

He pushes the bump on my head.

"Ow!"

He grins. "Now get off me before me fingers find their place." I rub my head, trying to soothe the wound there and also my pride as he – not so elegantly – shoves me off and pulls me up to him. "I will fuck ya one of these days… Just say the sober word."

"What's the sober word?" I say stumbling through flashes of bodies until we finally reach cold air and he slips my jacket on my shoulders.

Digger's happy enough to tell me. "Please fuck me, Captain Boomerang…" I'll never forget his smile.

* * *

I'm hung over like a bitch. I feel it in my sleep more than anything else, and that's what wakes me.

Last night is already flooding back to me and I'm so furious with myself. This is why I don't drink, things like this always happen. This is why I don't socialize. Society can't handle me. I'm an embarrassment.

I try to roll on my back, but I touch warm flesh and immediately jump off the side of the bed and onto the floor with a huge thump.

"Can it, love…" Digger mumbles, eyes closed.

I touch the edge of the mattress, peering over the top to him in my bed. I crash down again, chewing my cheek, hiding. Then I look down because I feel cold. I'm just in my underwear…

We didn't… He wouldn't…

I gasp.

Crawling on all fours, all our clothes are by the door and I spot his trench coat. I make a b-line for it, taking one of his really sharp boomerangs as carefully as I can and then shuffle to his side of the bed.

When he begins to stretch, I pounce, catching him underneath the sheets with my legs and holding the boomerang in his face. "Why are you in my bed?!"

Digger's eyes open and he holds his hands out, palms up, but he's smiling. "Ya don't remember?" I shake my head. I don't think I could actually hurt him, but I pretend that that is what I'm planning. "If ya gonna do it, at least hold it properly." He turns the boomerang in my hand and settles it at his throat. "That's better. Now love, where were we?"

"Why are you in my bed?!" I say in the same tone as before.

"'Cause ya _begged_ me, sweet cheeks," he purrs. "In fact, ya asked so nicely, ya called me Captain Boomerang."

"Fuck you!" He throatily laughs, "Did we?" I swallow, motioning the boomerang between me and him "…We didn't…"

"Ya'd know if we did. You wouldn't be walkin' for a week."

I sigh, letting my head fall back. "Thank god…"

Digger throws the Boomerang and shoves me to the side, crushing me underneath his weight and pushing my hands above my head. For a second, it feels almost vicious. Which it probably was. But when he stares down at me, I feel things I don't want to be feeling and my cheeks inflame.

"I should be offended."

"Get off me." I try to look away, but he pushes hard on my wrists and I instinctively scowl at him.

"I kinda liked the drunk Eunacorn better. At least she knew what she wanted and didn't act like a drip."

"Drunk _Eunacorn_ and sober _Eunacorn_ are arch enemies." I spit through my tense jaw while struggling in vain to get my arms free.

"Sober Eunacorn held my hand." He wiggles his brows. "I think she liked it." I don't know whether it was consciously or not, but he almost grinds on me. I begin to wonder what it would be like to sleep with a man like him. I wonder if he'd be gentle, or just shit crazy. I'm going with shit crazy.

I remember that bit and admit, "I was scared." I stop struggling and relax. "…I didn't do anything else…embarrassing, did I?" Whether I like it or not, in this position I'm feeling the slippery sensation in the pit of my stomach beginning to build and the smirk on his face tells me he knows.

"Jus' told me a few things…interesting things." I gulp. "Ya told me it's been a long time." I nod, because it's true. "Ya told me where ya wanted it."

"I did not!" I scoff in his face. "I'm surprised I believe anything that comes out of your mouth."

"Do you want to come in it?"

"I don't want to 'come' anywhere near you."

His voice has dropped an octave as he replies, "You're eyes say different." His beard brushes against my ear as he whispers in it. " _I bet if I put my hand between ya legs you'd be sopping_." While he's there he lets his arm holding my wrists slip down, trailing underneath my arm and to my bra. "I'll let ya use me. I don't mind." He fingers the edge of it. "All you gotta do is say."

"Say what?" It's not really a coherent question, I'm thinking about where his hands are too much, and he seems surprised I asked.

But he tells me anyway. "Please fuck me, Captain Boomerang…" And with that, he lowers a little and I feel the tickle of his beard, then his lips touch against my collarbone. My leg jerks, and he does it again, this time leaving a wet trail across it, then blowing.

He nips at the crease of my neck before I even realize what's really happening, and he pulls the skin between his teeth and sucks, hard.

God, it feels good. But do I stop him? Should I? And why?

Digger grunts as he rips away the sheet between us and goes straight for my navel. He's hungry and extremely blunt with his movements. His fingers are skimming up my side, digging into my ribs at points and I'm too caught up to stop him.

"I just wanna hear ya moan." The words are still in that deeper tone than normal and gruffer. "You're a stubborn one ain't ya?" His mouth is back on my skin, leaving bruising marks and causing me to squirm and hum to myself.

When he finally looks up, he seems agitated. Then yanks my arms down which are free but still above my head and places them on his back. The feel of his skin against mine is electric, almost burning, and my hands wander on their own accord. I just can't help myself.

The muscles contract and ripple with his movements. There's bunches of muscles over his shoulders, and I make the final decision that that is the best part of his body. His resolute broadness. The steel frame he had while you were in his presence.

When he fingers the waist of my underwear unexpectedly, I gasp.

"Ya can tell me to stop." He looks up at me from very far down my body. "But I'm a very thirsty boy and tomorrow's not promised."

So I just nod. My heart racing as I feel the material slip down my thighs.

Captain Boomerang is about to go down on me.

* * *

A/N

Thanks for reading and the great messages!

Also, another huge thank you for another beautifully edited chapter by K. Riley!


	4. Chapter 4

It feels good to have someone want you and not expect anything in return or not want anything yet anyway.

The air is cold on my skin that's exposed to him. I look down at Digger one last time, fidgeting. It's been a while since I've been intimate with anyone, or exposed my body to them, but with his confidence, it brings out a darker side of me. He's not bothered by anything, so surely I shouldn't be.

His beard tickles against the soft skin of my inner thighs as he lays his mouth against my thigh, then I feel his breath edging towards my most sensitive area.

Reality dawns on me and my eyes open widely. "Uh, uh, Dig—Wait. Stop. STOP!" I sit up, almost kneeing him in the face and pull my underwear up that was previously dangling off one foot. He seems a little perplexed as he allows me to move out from underneath him, and I stumble off the bed and out of the bedroom door like I can't find my feet.

Leaning up against the counter, I kick myself internally, cursing myself every name under the sun before heading to the kettle for distraction.

He's behind me in a matter of seconds, just in grey boxers, his torso bare and every definition on show. I take in the sight shamefully as I never truly indulged myself in any of the previous times when I've been met with this situation before. Snapping my eyes up and away from the bulge pressing against the lone button on his underwear, I see that his hair looks disheveled from sleep, it's all mighty intimidating, but utterly beautiful and catalogue worthy. And now I feel worse. "You're braver than I thought."

I shake my head and glance away from him. "No, I'm stupid. We shouldn't… _do things_ , like that." Rubbing my head, I then sigh into my hand. "I get that you feel you owe me for keeping your stuff here—" I lift my head to face him, and he looks utterly pissed at me, his mouth down in almost a grimace and his eyes squinted.

" _Ohhh_ , so that's what ya thought that was." Now his expression is mocking as takes those last steps to close the little remaining bit of distance separating us. "Believe it or not, I don't offer my services up to any old bat." He almost sounds insulted. But not quite.

"Flattered…" I say dryly, breaking his intense gaze.

His hand shoots out and grabs my face, making me look at him. "I've spent three nights with ya. What does that say to you?"

"That you have nowhere else to go." He shakes my head in the rhythm of a long hard 'No'.

"My track record is an hour, love." He pronounces the words clearly, as if I'm incapable of hearing him properly. I would say almost proud. "Would I put a tracker in ya coat if I genuinely didn't care?"

My eyes bug wide. "You did _what_?!"

He shrugs a shoulder. "The time I helped with ya coat, I slipped a little goodie in the pocket," he says as if there was nothing wrong with it. "What? You think that I'd let ya go roaming out by yourself?"

I cross my arms over my chest and take a step back, glaring venomously at him. "Don't you think you should've told me? What if I had a date? Or asked out from the bar for late night drinks? Or went somewhere I didn't want anyone to know about?"

"A date?" His pitch grows higher, and I realize I've touched a nerve. "Go on a date while I'm kipping 'ere?" The words verging on incredulous. "You've definitely got spunk." He flips the kettle off from behind me before it's finished. "Do ya think for a second, that _my_ Eunacorn, that _I_ found, will be chirpin' with another bloke?"

"That's where the line sits. You're _not_ my boyfriend," I insist. "I don't even know what this is! And as far as the bedroom drama goes – we haven't even kissed and you're willing to sleep with me! Now tell me… does that not throw alarm bells at you? Does that not tell you we aren't a thing and you can't just… take over like that?"

"For me it says a lot," he replies firmly. "I'm not traditional, fuckin' shoot me." A heavy hand slaps the counter making his words hover in the air. Jeez, he's really mad. "Ya don't have a boyfriend, what's bad with this?"

My arms unwind and I clench my fists at my sides. "Because I told you I wasn't looking either! And now you've seemingly moved in!" The words are rushed and nasty. I totally regret them instantly. "I didn't mean-"

He cuts off any back-peddling I may have attempted.

"Do ya want me to leave? 'Cause I will. You just gotta say it."

I look to the floor, hugging my arms to myself as I lean on back on the counter. I'm brought out of it by him touching my arm, and then rubbing up and down it so I peer up at him.

I don't know why, but I can feel myself tearing up. Him leaving was the last thing on my agenda. I didn't want him to go, but admitting to him that I wanted him to stay meant giving away a part of my strong independence I thought I had. He'd even destroyed that, because that wasn't independence and living; it was just getting-by and being lost within the shadows of this city.

When he was around, sure, he aggravated the hell out of me and his innuendos were endless, but he made me feel alive and brought me out of my own doom and gloom thoughts, all at the same time.

However, it all really came down to me being scared he would in the long run flake out on my life like all the people I've ever had in it, leaving me back at square one. To feel like my life was heading in a more desired destination that I wanted and I didn't want to have it all blow up in my face by trusting someone else to get me there.

Maybe he wasn't going to get me there, but maybe show me the way at least.

I've always believed everything happens for a reason.

"No," I eventually say, biting my lip so I don't openly cry. My hangover must be really bad. I'm never usually this emotional.

He wipes under my eye. "Thank fuck. You were killin' me here, darl'." He smiles, so I lift my cheeks a little. I don't think I could ever really offend this man if I tried. His light-heartedness was a completely attractive trait of his. "Ah, there she is, she's comin' back." I laugh, but it's snottily and really unattractive. "You need to sit down, bub? I think you need to sit." He practically picks me up on the spot, of course cupping my ass cheeks and forcing me to wrap my legs around him as he carries me five steps. "Come and sit on ole Captain Boomerang's lap." His warm skin feels good against mine.

When he flops down on the couch, he leans forwards for a fraction of a second, and then comfortably sits back. I leave my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes, just allowing me these few minutes to listen to someone as strong as him breathe.

He turns the TV on.

* * *

I didn't even know I had fallen asleep but I'm woken by the sounds of a pan… and Digger singing. Off-key. I'm already smiling before I open my eyes.

His back is turned to me, cracking eggs. "… _I'm not your lover, I'm not your friend, I am something that you'll never comprehend_." He's not bad but he's not good either, and I'm giggling. " _No need to worry, no need to cry_ …"

"What are you making?"

He has a spoon in his mouth as he turns. "She rises!" He croaks. "Food…" He's obviously trying not to drop the spoon. Ironic really.

It looks dark outside and I'm suddenly anxious that I'm late for work. "What time is it?!" I flip whatever's on me - his trench coat, placing my feet on the floor and ready to run to get dressed.

"Not time yet, darl'. It's just storming," he doesn't turn to look at me as he answers. Instead he makes up two plates and flops down next to me while handing me one. Thunder crashes outside, as if to speak up and confirm his words, though it sounds far off.

We must've only taken our first mouthful and a phone begins ringing – not my phone. My phone is too new for me to have any contacts. I can thank Captain Boomerang's 500 dollars for that. But it bothers me that I didn't even know he had a phone. He plates his cutlery and pulls the device out of his coat. Listening without saying anything, he sighs, looking down at me. "I gotta go, sweetheart..." Then his eyes drop down to my neck and he smirks to himself. I forgot he'd marked my skin there.

"Wait…" I swallow my food quickly. "Where are you going?"

"Work to do." He shoves large mouthfuls of egg and bacon to finish his breakfast, and for a second I wonder if he even has a gag reflex.

He dumps the now empty plate on the side, heading towards the bedroom. So I follow him, my own plate balanced between my hand and my chest.

"When will you be back?"

"Tonight. I'll come to the bar."

"I've heard that before…" I roll my eyes. But he doesn't reply, dressing as if it's a complete emergency. "Well…just don't get yourself arrested…" I say, taking back one of my old insults.

"Ain't plannin' on it, love." Zipping his blue jumper up, which I now realize has 'Captain' written across the front, he stops, hesitating in front of me. " _I just wanna bite you_ …" He hisses, cupping my face with heavy, clumsy hands.

He kisses my cheek instead.

I watch him leave without another word, lightly touching the skin he's left burning.

* * *

I've been dreamy all day.

I've buffed the same glass for the last fifteen minutes, only snapping out of it when Carol nudges me roughly. I know she's about to leave and I'm glad. She's been pissing me off all evening.

"Actually do some work," she spits over her shoulder, half-way to the exit out-back and I merely stick my tongue out at her.

As she leaves, a group enters, rowdy as hell, not regulars, and I'm wary instantly. They sit directly in front me, propped on the bar, laughing between themselves. I zone in on one in a pin-stripe suit as he puts his hat on the counter and I swallow thickly because he looks similar to the guy from before. The one in the alley just last night.

Regardless, I put on my cheery mask. "What can I get you?"

"Whatever you suggest," one of them calls. I instantly just pour pints from the taps, pushing it towards them, hoping it will sate them.

It does… for a while.

They end up having some sort of debate that gets heated quickly. One of them swings an arm and hits their drink, smashing it on the tiniest piece of laminate flooring which is by the bar. They all roar with drunken laughter, cat-calling the guy.

"Ay, Miss, we made a mess!" One of them leans over to me, "Wanna clear it up?"

 _'No, I want to punch you in the face._ '

"Just a minute." I fetch a dustpan and brush, opening the heavy bar that's my sanctuary and stepping out. They ignore me for the most part. It's only when it happens again and they laugh, that my anger spikes and I catch eyes with one of the guys.

He puts a fingertip on his glass, saying 'oops' and lets it drop on the floor.

That's it.

"Okay, I think you've all had enough. I think you should leave." I might as well have been a mouse. It's something I've only ever had to say once before. I notice one of the old men in the far corner get up and leave, eyeing the situation with caution. "Come on guys, out now please." I point to the door.

"But we only just started."

"Get out before I call the police," I bite.

"Ooooh, she's getting feisty… Let's listen to the lady shall we? Let's go…"

I'm relieved and go to open the top of the bar to lock myself in, but I'm spun from behind. "Get-"

The man is dragged away and slung into his friends roughly, knocking one off a stool. "I think you'll should do as the lady says." Digger's hands touch my face, and he keeps his body turned towards me. "You okay, bird?" I nod, smiling tightly. " _Get behind the bar._ " His mouth is tight lipped, but smiling somewhat. So I do instantly.

"Who the fuck are you?" The one with the pin-stripe suit finally speaks up. He stands, patting out his hat and places it on his head.

"Doesn't matter, but I know who you are. Joker's little cunts."

I cringe, staying completely still.

"Good, saves for introductions." In his hand, he flips a knife, holding it towards Digger. "Four against one, what do you make of those odds?"

Digger downs one of the guy's beers, slamming it on the side. "Fair game." He shrugs. Then one of his colossal hands grabs the nearest guy and bounces his head off the bar. The other three move forward and he knocks one of them down. That's all I see till I slip down to the floor, covering my head.

I can hear the struggle, panting, glasses smashing around me, but I keep very small and very still. A stool leg bounces over the bar and I yelp. "Digger!"

"It's alright peewee."

A man is thrown onto the bar, inches away from my face and I scrabble backwards, gripping a glass and smashing it on his head. He's pulled back by his legs and with one last thud, it grows quiet. The bar door sounds and one of them shouts "You'll regret this!" So I gather they've made a hasty exit.

I stand slowly and see Digger dusting one of his shoulders. "Gettin' too old for this shit," he scoffs.

The bar is ruined. "Oh my god! I'm going to be sacked! Look at this place!"

"Good, 'cause ya ain't working here anymore. Get ya coat, now." I do as he says, rushing out-back to it and then to him where he holds the heavy counter up for me. I slip through and he drops it, hovering a hand at the small of my back. Digger exits first checking to see if it's safe before motioning for me to follow him.

It seems the metal security gates take a life time to close and I'm biting my lip while my foot taps impatiently.

"Now post the keys in the box." Digger's not looking at me but down the road.

"I can't do that, how unprofessional. Carol will—"

"File for assault, she ain't got no say. Leave her a message, fuck, she ain't important here." He grabs the keys from my hands with a grumpy exhale and posts them for me. "We'll call the police when we get in… Happy?"

"Not really."

He grabs my arm and drags me away.

* * *

Digger had me play the victim card. It's not unusual round here, and the police want me to make a statement sometime in the week. I even left a message on Carol's phone, explaining what happened and saying I was too distraught and couldn't work there anymore. I'm glad it's late and she's probably asleep; I couldn't face actually speaking with her.

And Digger looks utterly pleased.

I approach him on the couch just after making my calls and he looks up at me, a whiskey in hand, totally relaxed. "You've turned my life upside down," I tell him in a really unenthusiastic tone.

"Good, hopefully you're pointin' the right way now. You attract trouble."

"Yeah…" I scoff. "Look at you."

He shrugs, "You could do worse, bub." I rub my neck and he notices. "You hurtin'?"

"Yes… No," I change when he stands. "I'm okay. Really." He shadows over to me and I close my eyes. "Thanks. Thank you for _once again_ coming to my rescue." My voice echoes my own disappointment.

I almost wonder if our paths were meant to entwine, if we were meant to meet. He seems fascinated enough by my name and that wasn't my choice. Yet, here we are. Still.

When he hums I peek out between my lashes, frowning at him, wondering why he's not making some smart-ass answer. "Close your eyes," he grumbles, so I do.

"This better not be a joke…" I hear him put his glass down, and then my sixth sense tells me he's moving around me towards my back. His fingers touch my skin and I try and will away my sudden goose bumps. When they begin kneading into my shoulders, I give in to the fact that it feels relatively good and slouch into them. "I never knew there was a quiet side to you."

"You have so much to learn 'bout me." His hands leave a cold wake, only to begin lifting my top up.

"Dig—"

"Just trust me for once, darl'. Go lie down." The top is over my head and thrown half-way across the room.

Edging forward to the couch, I slowly lie down, turning my head to look at him. I watch the way his eyebrows knit together in concentration, the way his head slightly tilts to one side, the muscles in his forearms uncovered in just a vest flexing and tightening as he moves his hands along my spine.

The same hands that were knocking heads together not that long ago.

I can smell the whiskey he's been drinking, the heat of his own skin which is degrees higher than mine and the rough prints of his fingers skimming across my skin. My eyes fall on the whiskey glass and he catches me looking at it.

"Ya want some of the hard stuff?" He smiles a toothy smile, concentrating on my back again.

I snort, "That's not another cheap-shot innuendo is it?"

"I'm all about the serious, darl'."

I prop myself up on my elbows and he stops, slanting back. "Okay, yeah, I want to try some…" He leans and I think he's just going to hand it to me; instead he drains the last of it. "Now that was just mean."

"You want it? You gotta take it." He pours another quickly, this time holding the contents in his mouth.

I stare at him. "You can't be serious."

He wiggles his brows. There's that glint in his eye again, telling me he's totally into this. He swallows it to speak. "Ya afraid I might bite?"

"No, but spit it in my face, yes."

Digger laughs, "Wouldn't dream of it, that'd be wasteful. However, I don't mind sharing." He does the same again, giving me a long coaxing look. So I give in, leaning forward slowly, a little unsurely, till my elbows are resting on the edge of the couch.

I hesitate, but Digger doesn't. My eyes are open as he trails the tip of his nose against mine. In my surprise from the gentle touch, my mouth opens and he presses his lips to me. I realize that's exactly the reaction he wanted.

He leaves it a second before pushing harder, and I taste the first drop of whiskey on my lips and it sears my skin. I open my mouth a little more for him. The alcohol is fiery and reminds me to swallow the mouthful he's given me. I quirk a brow at him and his eyes smile.

But Digger doesn't stop there. I've invited him in and he's going to take it. Our tongues touch and I get my first real taste of him. A whiskey haze so warm and inviting that I close my eyes.

His beard brushes against my skin, but it's not at all unwelcome. It's caressing, and exactly how I imagined it would feel. My hand glides into it, under his chin. I've never kissed a guy with a beard before so it's completely foreign to me. In fact, kissing a guy like Digger is all relatively new. It feels like he could break me if he really wanted to, and on that thought my stomach knots, whether I like it or not.

I can smell him so much better like this too, something I'll never be able to describe, something I'll never be able to forget, and it's _delicious_.

He's completely dominate of course, but he takes it down a notch when he bites my bottom lip and pulls back, growling to himself. I instinctively open my eyes to see why, but I gather he's just making sure I'm enjoying it and not freaking out like last time.

"Eunaco—"

He doesn't get to finish that silly little nickname because I force myself to him, crashing against him and reaching out to grip his shoulders all at the same time. But it's a mere second of dominance. He pushes me back, never breaking contact and I fall back against the couch with him clambering on top of me.

His hands are everywhere. His tongue fierce and wanting, trying to claim my every movement.

Then he just stops.

"What's wrong?" I'm struggling to draw in air around me, my chest rising and falling quickly, but I don't care.

"Don't feel ya owe me for saving you again earlier. I'd say we're pretty even now." My words from earlier have obviously affected him more than I thought.

"What I said—"

Digger muffles my reply with his lips, eating the words, uncaring for whatever they may be. "I wanted to kiss ya the first time I saw ya at the bar." I'm shocked when a hand trails down my arm and laces between my fingers while still intermittently capturing my mouth. I'm unguarded because I'm curious, and also really confused. "I wondered what your pretty little mouth felt like… Do you know what I also thought?"

I'm allowed to speak now. "No."

"Ya too good for me. I should stay away. Then I saw you in the café by yourself. Easily the most stunnin' woman there, no matter how lonely ya looked."

I frown. "I wasn't lonely…" I try and brush it off, clearing my throat.

"I had a sliding doors moment… Should I? Shouldn't I? I don't have many of them darl', right." He pulls me up from the couch so we're sitting and I lean my head sideways against the back of it, my feet in his lap, listening to him as he speaks expressively with a hand. I can feel myself smiling. "Then ya closed ya eyes, appreciating the little things. Then I thought…" He's talking almost hushed now, as if telling me a long ass story and his accent is only accentuated. "'Ay, if she can appreciate that, then maybe she'll be able to appreciate me. I've got nothin' to bring to the table, darl'. No career, nothin'. I don't do good things'."

"Digger it's okay, you don't have to tell me—"

He continues as if I hadn't interrupted. "An' I went to walk away. But how can ya walk away from summit you name?"

"I'm not following."

"'When ya find a unicorn, you don't let 'em go'. That's what my Ma told me. That was probably her only decent piece of advice she ever taught."

I get it now. "So, is that…" I can't look at him, I'm too embarrassed. "The only reason why you're still here?"

"That and the fact you spoke to me like a decent person." He smirks while I begin to sweat from the heat I'm producing. "And the lil' shy looks."

"I'm not—"

He stands up, turning his back to me, but fishing for my arms. "That's enough for one night, love…" He pulls me up his back effortlessly and piggy backs me to the bedroom.

"I'm still gonna fuck ya one of these days too… I totally thought it…" Digger says while carrying me.

The cheeky bastard.

* * *

I'm jobless. Unemployed like probably half of Gotham. It feels weird knowing I don't have any work commitments, but also like shit as now I have to find another way to pay my bills. But I'll think of that later. Digger had me up early, dressed and in town before I could really fathom what we were doing but I knew it would involve food in some way, and I was right.

We are at the supermarket, and I can't stop laughing at him. Digger couldn't look anymore out of place if he tried. At least he cleared isles, though.

My arm is linked underneath his as he insisted and he carries the awful green plastic basket which is almost full in the other.

"I'm worried," I say while he tries to decide over two types of coffee.

"What's that?" He's looking at the label, his voice uninterested.

My voice quiets a little as I glance down at the other end of the aisle where a brave older woman keeps glancing at the pair of us. "What if Joker's men find out who I am, and find out where I live? If I know anything, it's not to mess around with that man and his goonies."

"Do ya think I'm stupid? I've already sorted it, love." I'm pulled with him as he walks down the aisle. The old woman quickly moves away. "Fuckin' waffles, man, I'm haulin' that."

"Digger…" I say, tugging harshly. "I'm serious."

"My mate sorted it." His answer is dismissive but I feel like a dog with a bone. I can't let go because I need to know.

"Your mate? What mate? The mate from the club?"

He nods. "The same one." It's frustrating because I'm fretting and he's unbothered. Finally he peers over his shoulder, and then sighs. "Why such the long face? Ya don't trust me?"

I admit, "I don't trust how easily you can dismiss it; it's worrying, Christ…" I rub my brow, eyeing the packs of biscuits he's balancing precariously on top of the already large pile of food. We should've got a trolley.

"I work with the matey all the time. He never misses. Well he missed once…" Digger shrugs, chuckling to himself.

I'm still curious, "Who is he?"

"I don't know his real name, met him on the off chance. But we do jobs together time to time when needed." I don't want to know what he means by 'jobs'. I'm happy for him to keep that to himself than have another brain ache. But to be honest I don't think he would tell me anyway. "The name reflects his skill…" He smiles down at me. "Deadshot."

Oh fuck me… Another crazy ass.

"What the hell!" I don't get to rant, because when we turn a corner, none other than Chloe stands before me, peering at the shelves before glancing up. "Oh… Hello." I shift, but hit Digger with my elbow. This conversation isn't finished.

"Hello you two." Her blonde hair sits neatly tied up on her head. Tight jeans and small jacket over a low-cut top with her cleavage exposed, basket in hand as she tilts her head, then looks up to Digger in awe. I now wonder if she purposefully follows us everywhere. "Still together I see?" Her eyes fall to my arm linked under his.

Oh she wants him…she wants him bad…

"Yeah, I guess…"

"Eunacorn here doesn't work at the bar anymore," Digger says bluntly, and I inwardly roll my eyes but smile nonetheless.

Chloe's face takes on a mask of surprise and mock sympathy. "Oh no. That's a shame. Did you get fired?"

"Erm, no, I got…attacked, so I quit."

"Well maybe it's for the best. You always looked so tired." Spiteful cow. I just hum. "Hey, well now you have more nights free. Maybe we could meet up in the evenings? I know a great club."

Not appealing. Not appealing at all.

"I don't really _do_ clubs…" I snort trying to make it sound like anything other than I am a loser and I despise playing dress up. "Besides, wouldn't it be awkward for you? Three's a crowd and all that…" I catch the glint of a challenge in her eyes. She now knows I'm trying to avoid her, but it seems to make her more persistent. I wonder if she thinks she could catch Digger's attention by playing off me or something.

Hell, what am I thinking? I'm not playing this game with anyone. I never have. And I'm not going to start playing tug of war with a guy.

"Do you know what, it sounds like a great idea." I surprise myself, and the small smirk Digger gives me is almost cruel. I would say he's been waiting for me to find some sort of back-bone.

"Really?" Chloe's features rise. "How about tonight? I mean it's not the weekend so it won't be as lively, but that might be better for you." I can almost see her lip jut out in mocking, or maybe I'm imaging it. "I won't be alone though; I'll bring someone with me. Four's a party…"

"Oh… great." This is all backfiring terribly. "Give me your number and I'll message you." I pull my phone and let her type her number in. When she's finished, she smiles at Digger, not me. Clearing my throat, she manages to drag her eyes away. "I'll see you tonight then…"

"Chow for now." She struts past us in her ridiculous heels and I blink a few times at how brash she is, and then scoff.

"You're gonna be great mates…" Digger speaks finally, looking after her.

I level him with a look, muttering, "We are the complete opposites." I pull him forward this time. I just want to get out of here now.

"I bet she's really _wild_. I would say she loves a good club…that's for sure…"

"Can you stop?" We head to the checkout and it's busy so we have to wait. Digger's almost gyrating on the spot.

" _Little bird gettin' jealous_ ," he whispers in my ear.

I shake my head vehemently. "No, _little bird_ is wary of women like her. I've seen the way she looks at you. I'm not blind."

"She'd suck my cock for nothin', that's for sure." His voice is gritty and I look around to see if anyone's listening, reddening slightly. But no one is paying attention. Thank god.

"That's disgusting. Stop talkin' like that," I hiss.

"You like it when I talk like this. I can talk 'bout you if ya like." He nods when I look at him, winking. Digger empties the basket quickly on the belt then steps behind me again, I can feel him leaning and his breath on the back of my neck. "Don't tell me ya haven't thought 'bout it."

"And what's that?"

"Me. You. _Rompin_ '" There's a certain playful tone as he whispers to me. I'm completely beetroot, I feel as though everyone can hear him, and he has no shame at all. "All the nasty lil' tricks I'd show ya." He pinches my bum and I resist the urge to yelp. "I'd mar ya for life. One ride on the boom stick and ya'll never be able to get off it."

The clerk begins scanning our stuff and she smiles at me innocently. I try my best to ignore him, bagging our stuff rapidly. Standing here is like standing under a spotlight.

"I'm a tit-and-ass guy, I'm not picky, and lucky for me ya have both."

I turn to him quickly, scowling. "Quit it."

"Ya have beautiful buds. Can ya blame me for all the things I want to do to ya… Remember you just gotta say."

"Digger, stop talking dirty to me!"

There's a great smile on his face showing his gold tooth, but this time he looks passed me. "Sorry, love. How much?"

The clerk is blushing from my last outburst and so am I. "Did you just…" I say to her, motioning between me and him.

"I think you should just say…" Her shy voice is soft but also slightly humored.

I want to crawl in a hole and die.

Dragging a bag off the side Digger grabs the others in one hand and I slump with my shoulders low in shame. He pulls me in laughing like a brute and kisses the top of my head.

"I ain't even started yet love…" His words leave an air of promise. "Ya tongue…"

And I let him whisper all the things that he wants to do to me the entire walk home.

* * *

A/N

Thanks for all the great messages! Another amazing chapter edited by K. Riley! Big thanks to her for sorting this out, _once again_! xx


	5. Chapter 5

**;)**

Digger doesn't help unpack the shopping. He's too busy scoffing his face on a meal I decided to skip because there is no way I can keep up with his daily calorie intake.

Instead I find myself constantly thinking about what Digger does. Mainly the thoughts erupting from our previous conversation at the store. I know it's bad, I'm not a fool. But I can't see him in any other way then he is with me. I'm not afraid of him, but I imagine he can be scary if he really wanted to be and its kind of funny how my deception of him is warped taking into account how people took one look and walked the other way when they saw him. – Where as I seemingly walk toward him.

I can't hold my tongue any longer. "I want to know what's in those boxes." They've been staring me in the face long enough.

The silence from him tells me he totally heard what I said but is ignoring me in a manly fashion.

"Digger. I want to know, considering I'm under the same roof." I turn to look at him back at the couch but he's directly behind me and I jump. "Don't do that!"

"Ya wanna know?" He leans into my personal space. "It botherin' ya?"

"A little." He hums at me, grabbing my hand and dragging me to them. He opens the first one and waves me to have a look. I hesitate, peering at him for a long while before stepping closer and taking in the contents. It's Boomerangs. Lots of them. All stacked neatly, some looking different to the others. "I should've guessed."

"The others hold money an goods if that's your next question. Happy?"

"The fact I'm now harbouring weapons and stolen goods, yeah I'm over joyed." Digger snorts in dissatisfaction at me. "And what about this Deadshot?"

He sneers. "He's absolutely harmless…" It's a complete lie and we both know it. "I told ya, we work together from time to time, nothin' more. Anythin' else got you sparkin', cause I'm all ears, love."

"Yes…" I try to sound confident. "Do you…do you hurt innocent people. You know, ones that aren't part of your … jobs?"

He whips his head to look at me, almost mad that I asked him such a question. He squints slightly and chooses his words carefully. "Innocent people don't get in my way."

I decide to change the subject. "What about family? Do you have family here?"

"What is this? Twenty-one questions?" Digger turns his back and walks away.

"You know more about me than I do you, so I thought I'd ask."

"No, I don't have family 'ere." He throws out, huffing as he slams down on the couch again.

"Have you…do you have…kids?" I stand next to him by the arm of the couch, twiddling my fingers. I believe it's possible, he's very sexually orientated so I wouldn't be surprized.

"What the fuck, little bird. Whya askin' me this?" Today his eyes look electric blue compared to all the other times, and I'm also really pissing him off by the sounds of it.

"I didn't think you'd get so offended."

"I'm offended ya don't trust me. I'm offended you just assume I have a family but ignore them to be 'ere. I'm offended you think I have rugrats that I don't care about. Ya get where I'm goin'?"

"Forget it…" My seemingly innocent curiosity has expanded this situation past what it's worth. I go back to the small kitchen and begin putting the food away again. "I'm sorry, I just – I didn't think."

"An if I did have family?"

He's behind me again somewhere. I don't look because his voice is icy. "I'd tell you to go back to them."

"Just like that?" He's breathing down my neck.

"Just like-" He spins me to face him and it knocks my breath.

"And if I did have little nippers…"

I divert my eyes. "I wouldn't think any less of you." I'm sure my skin has now grown an outer layer to his rough touches. Usually I'd be scared of bruises by the way he throws me around, and I'm beginning to wonder if he knows this as I never have a mark. Well, the one on my neck that's beginning to fade being the exception.

"Well I don't." But his smile is dangerous. "I don't mind puttin' a bit of me in you though." He hoists me up onto the side and I have to grip his shoulders to steady myself. "Listen, I don't want ya thinkin' bad thoughts on me, ever." He pets my hair and face, it's rough and I want to say a little possessive… "Anyone else I don't give a fuck. Ya buryin' the words, love?"

"I hear you."

"Good." His brows furrow. "Ya got a little somethin'…" He points at my face I rub it. "No, come 'ere." He licks his finger and runs it on my lip, then pecks me before I can put two and two together. He laughs when I scowl at him. "Ya too cute."

Pulling me off the counter, he hoists me up higher than his head so he has to gaze up at me. " _Shall we have a kip_?" It's the same tone he uses to trap me, flirty purring that tingles my spine even though it probably shouldn't.

"I'm not tired." I watch his eyes flick to my lips and I smile at him, he smiles back and it's warming. I'm blushing again. The whole previous conversation is forgotten, Boomerang style.

"I'll sleep then an you can watch over me. Ya can touch me if ya want. I won't say no." The bedroom is dark because the curtains are still drawn and he throws me down, pulling off his vest in front of me, his whole abdomen rippling with muscle as he clambers on and to my side. I suddenly realize I'm not breathing…

He lays on his stomach, back exposed and pulls my hand to rest there. "Five minutes." He sighs.

I lay next to him and hook my fingers on his shoulder, giving in to the small sign of affection.

* * *

I wake up completely pulled into his side. But he's on his back now, an arm underneath me and my face on his chest.

Captain Boomerang lightly snores, it's not horrible, it's sort of adorable. - If you can call him that.

I was having the most wonderful dream. It all mirrored the way he stood at the bottom of the bed earlier lifting up his top and showing what laid underneath. Instead, this time he didn't lie to my side, he hovered on top of me, his mouth grazing against the skin of my neck, his hands gliding towards my underwear.

At that point I woke up breathless and kind of sweaty, pushing back pieces of my hair that were covering my face and to his _adorable_ snoring.

The ache was still in full swing and it didn't help being this close against him, neither the fact my leg was thrown over his thigh.

Digger's still asleep, so I slip away, my breathing way off and stumbling to the bathroom. I take a minute to see if I woke him, he hasn't even stirred.

I take off my clothes in the mirror, looking at my own body and trying to imagine what he sees like I do when I look at him. It's nothing fantastic, and pale... But the throbbing in my legs is still yearning at me, calling at me to relieve it no matter how hard I try to distract myself. I know I have to, one way or another, or I'll end up giving in to one of his many casual innuendos.

It's definitely him that's got me so tied up. He _never_ _stops_ talking about sex. And the more you're around a person with a dirty mind, the more it triggers you.

My hand touches my stomach, then casually trails down below my navel, reaching softer, usually covered skin. And I stop, leaning forward and grasping the sink, white knuckled.

Is it right to fantasize over a man lying in my bed just on the other side of the door, completely unaware?

I growl to myself as I angrily turn the shower on and step in. It's warm and I let it cover my face, splaying my hands against the tiles while my head drops. Whether it be the sensation of the water tickling against my body, the warmth, or the cold, wet tiles under my fingertips. I can't resist any longer.

I allow my hand to glide in between my legs with the help of the water, sucking in my bottom lip as I indulge myself. Every touch or kiss comes into play as I imagine him, then imagine what he would generally be like pressed up against me…or behind me.

A low moan escapes my throat on the thought, beyond my control as my knees begin to weaken.

The curtain flaps as if the door has opened and I freeze. "Get out!" My voice is desperate and caught in my throat but it's fruitless. He's already got the curtain open, staring at me in disbelief, his pupils completely blown.

My cheeks flush. He's caught me. There's no denying it. And the clucking noise he makes with his tongue on the roof of his mouth tells me all I need to know about this little surprize. "Well I never…"

I turn so I don't have to face him, my back to him. "Just go away…" My head hangs in my dignified shame. I have nothing to say that will rectify this situation and I know I'll never live it down.

Digger doesn't leave. I hear him stepping over the side of the tub and his hands snaking onto my hips. The sound of the water changes with us both in here, and I almost push myself against him as his lips graze my ear. " _My Eunacorn's sufferin', how am I suppose tah leave_." His hand runs down my arm, covering the back of mine and gripping in between my fingers as he pulls them back towards my body. His other arm moves under my own and holds onto my stomach – just as our merged fingers slide between my folds.

I gasp, looking over my shoulder, but he pushes them inside me deeper. I can feel his own arousal against my back and he talks lowly in my ear. " _Fuck my fingers, not yours_." His voice laced with utter lust. So I pull my hand away. " _This is mine_. _Ya got that_?" He moves faster along with the sound of his breath, palming my clit. All I can do is nod. " _Good girl_."

They curl inside me, his lips now pressed on my neck. He takes the flesh between his teeth and I hear him gutturally moaning, feeling like it's coursing through me while shrouded by his body. Everything begins unravelling and I lurch forward against the tiles, steadying myself. " _Come for me little bird_."

"I-I am…" I manage to pant, my own mewls becoming caught as I gasp out some rambled nonsense. My eyes shut and sparks fly, loosening the built tension that was burdening me. His movements slow, till he moves away and holds my body up as I only realize how limp I've gone once my senses come to.

The shame is still raw. "I'm sorry…" This is not how imagined this scenario going down, but at least I'm not embarrassed anymore. I find my legs and keep myself turned away from him.

Digger spins me, my feet squeaking against the ceramic, and I try not to look at him. "Ay, ya can't imagine the things I want to do tah ya. Don't apologize, if I had it my way, ya could straddle me in my sleep." He smirks. "I hope ya do one of these days…" I manage a smile at his boldness. "Now lemme wash ya, Eunacorn."

He attentively washes my hair first, letting me lean back into the stream while his hands scour every piece of skin on my body. All in complete silence. Our eyes lock when I pour bubbles in my palm and I reach for his chest. Digger stands completely still, beginning to hum, and his intense stare burns.

But it's hard not to laugh when somebody starts singing about how much they want to fuck you and how one day they eventually will.

* * *

Digger's been banging on the door every two minutes, asking if I'm ready.

In fact, I'm far from. I managed to put on the minimalist amount of make-up and curl just the ends of my hair, but it all boils down to the fact I have no clothes. Nothing club worthy, nothing that's going to match to Chloe, and it infuriates me to the point of not wanting to go out anymore.

The next knock has me snapping. "That's it! I'm not going!"

"What's got under ya nail, bub?" He speaks from the other side.

"I don't want to go anymore. I have nothing to wear!" I decide now is the time to throw clothes into a pile that I don't want anymore, solidifying the fact I have nothing. "I don't like clubs anyway."

"Ah, C'mon, once out yall love it." He opens the door this time and looks at me up down, a huge smile stretching across his face as I stand in just a towel. "That's perfect…"

"Oh shut up." I'm tired of him mocking me constantly, it's draining. Right now I'm deadly serious and in no mood for his smooth tongue.

"Ouch." He puts a hand to his heart. "Why don't ya sit down for a minute, have a lil' ponder of it, somethin' might come to ya." Digger sits on the bed, then taps it.

"No. It won't help."

"Fine. If that's how you want tah play it…" He wiggles my phone at me.

"What are you doing? Digger…no."

But he's dialling already, then puts it to his ear. "Hello, love." I can hear Chloe's tone on the other end, soft and perfect. I go to snatch it from him but he holds me at arm's length. "Eunacorn needs your help."

* * *

I look down at the clothes I'm wearing with Chloe standing behind me. Kudos to her for helping. But I don't usually wear this sort of stuff.

Black leggings and a lacy white top that shows my mid-drift. Its all clingy and tight, a feeling I'm really not used to and I constantly play with the straps of the top.

"I knew you were the same size as me." She's smiling, fingers entwined in front of her face in her own fitted silver dress that's way too much for me. She slips a cropped leather jacket on my shoulders and stands back. "I've always wanted to see you out of them jeans…"

"What's wrong with my jeans?"

Her eyes widen but she doesn't say anything. "I like the ankle boots. You choose them?"

My eyes squint a little as I get the idea she's mocking me. "Yes." I won't tell her it was about three years ago that I bought them.

"You just need to…" She's behind me, lifting my curled hair back and into a ponytail. It was the one thing I did that I liked this evening. "Super rock chick." She says when she's tied it, pulling bits out at the front to frame my face. She's in front of me making me stumble from how quick she is and she forces me to pout my lips with her hand… What is it with people doing that to me?

I see the bright red lipstick and panic. "Oh no! No thanks, I don't do lipstick."

"Don't be silly." Her now sweet voice lower and she holds me in place, quickly applying it. She's truly a monster. "Much better." She announces. "Let's show the guys."

I forgot about the guy she bought. He's super tall with long hair to his shoulders, but it suits his face. His jaw is strong and he's almost as broad as Digger but not quite. _I doubt he has Boomerangs_... His names Zeke or Zane, or something like that.

Chloe totters out first and I follow unwillingly. The scorn is set ripe on my face.

Digger whistles and I can barely look at him, I'm so embarrassed. "Little bird… fuck…" He hits Zane or Zeke or whatever in the arm. "Stop lookin' at my girl, mate." He throws his head back and laughs and the guy looks terrified of him. I wonder what they've been talking about?

I just ignore them all and grab my bag off the side. "I'm ready, let's go." Chloe almost skips past hand in hand with her guy and I hear them giggling down the corridor. I hold my palm up to Digger who is about to say something. "I need a drink."

It doesn't stop him from slipping his hands onto my hips from behind while he pushes me forwards into some stumbling walk. " _Eunacorn, Eunacorn, Eunacorn_ …" He whispers lowly into my hair.

I feel like he's about to eat me.

* * *

He can't sit any closer. Digger's thigh is pushed heavily against mine as Chloe tells us random things about her job at the council. Casually I sip my drink, and he keeps glancing at me and I wish he'd stop.

I almost get the sense he's thinking about earlier because sometimes he would quirk a brow at me, or bite his bottom lip, nudging my leg to look at him. I play dumb, but he and I know what's really being said here. The tension in the air between us is rife.

Our booth isn't very big, enough for the four of us. Around the back of me it's higher until it lowers down into the small opening to get in and out. Apparently its VIP because she knows one of the guys who works here. It just reminds me of a clam.

It's dark and gloomy and set with mist to suit the music. Red lights sometimes trail over to us, hitting our faces and I cringe about what I said to Digger under the last set of circumstances.

"This is my favorite song!" Chloe squeals to us and she looks with puppy dog eyes to her date. "Dance with me…" She juts her lip out, but he seems happy enough and is dragged off the seat. But then it just leaves me and Digger.

I glance over to him taking off his coat. He's wearing the navy shirt with Boomerangs again, the cuffs are rolled half way up his arm and a few buttons undone at the top relieving the sprinkling of chest hair there. "I'm just gonna say it…" He turns to face me. "Im glad you don't like clubbing, 'cause I'd be fuckin' jealous as shit." I smile lightly, bending my straw and taking another sip of my drink. "I've seen too many people lookin' at ya an I don't like it."

"I didn't think you got jealous…" I say chuckling. "But thanks…" There's room around us to move to create some space but neither of us do. I can see his hand fidgeting on the table, clenching and flexing sporadically. If that wasn't tension, I don't know what is.

He winks at me. "At least I don't have to coax ya to come home with me."

"I'm not easily coaxed into one night flings." His eyes light up. I know he loves these types of conversations.

He leans a little closer to me. "I bet I could've coaxed ya." He almost looks sly in this moment, but his eyes skim down to my cleavage and I swallow thickly. That's the Digger I know. "Ya wanna play a game?"

"Depends what it is…" I almost sound flirty, I'm shocked.

"I say somethin', then if it's true, you take a drink."

"Never have I ever? …Are you trying to get me drunk Captain Boomerang?" He hisses when I say it, his hands tightening on the beer in front of him.

"I'll start. I'll do an easy one for you because I know you're the sensitive type, eh. Never have I ever… had a threesome."

I laugh into my hand, but I don't drink. He does. "Seriously?" I scrunch my nose up.

"Was a cheap night…" He smiles. "Your turn."

"Does it have to be sexual?"

"Well, I don't wanna her what you had for lunch, darl'."

I shrug, I suppose he's right. "I've never…been dumped."

He's displeased with such a rubbish omission, but doesn't drink. "I take out the trash." He tells me. I do, and he frowns. " _Unbelievable_ …I've never…" He thinks for a long hard minute, smirking to himself. " _Waited so long tah lips the person I like_." The words whispered. It's a stupid sentence, but I think he's talking about me…well I hope he is.

We both drink.

"I've never…" I laugh before I can say it. "Kissed a guy with a beard." It's safe to say he doesn't drink. But I do.

His had slams down on the table and he growls. "Fuck this, as much as I enjoy playin' wid ya... Do ya wanna kiss me again?"

"Is this part of the game?"

"I had a lot of questions, but I honestly don't give a flyin' fuck now." He grips my thighs and pulls on them. One hand grabs the back of my neck and I let myself lean towards him. "Do you wanna?" I bite my lip and it's all the confirmation he needs.

It's nothing like the last kiss.

His breathing is ragged, and his tongue aggressive. He almost pushes me back with the sheer force and our teeth chink in his desperation to get closer. He pulls one of my legs hooked over the top of his and runs his hands down the inside of it. I involuntarily moan. Be it the alcohol or just the general public situation, I couldn't be sure. …Maybe it was because I had a little taster earlier…

Digger bites at my lip, dragging it down a little, then assaults my jaw, trailing down to my neck. I expose more of the soft flesh to him and he's ravenous, growling the whole while. His fingers glide up to the top of my leggings, over my bare stomach and under my top. He's forceful and uncaring for whatever damage he's causing and manages to yank my bra cup down, exposing my breast.

I shrug off the jacket I'm wearing and he begins grazing along my shoulder, massaging the skin in his hand. The warmth enveloping me starts between my legs. I would usually be ashamed or guilty, but I'm not now.

He squeezes my nipple so hard I yelp. It's intentional because his mouth is back, taking control of mine and exploring anything he wishes.

I do the one thing I've always been too afraid to do, and reach for him. Slowly blundering a hand across his thigh till I feel the bulge in his pants and instinctively he rises a little in the seat at my touch.

" _Careful Eunacorn_ , I can't promise what I might do…"

My throat is dry and raw, but I'm feeling brave. I rub my palm slightly against it.

His response is utterly lethal. His grip tightens, and he fucking bites me. Chomping down so hard I think I'm bleeding. "Digger!" I try to sound annoyed, however, at the same time he rubs between my legs through the material of my clothes and I get it. It's pleasure and pain. Of course. "Don't bite me." I whine.

"Sorry, bub." Never stopping his assault. "I just wanna be in you, canines or no canines."

"I thought I was meant to beg for it."

He halts completely, looking up to me. "Ya gonna say it?"

I smile wickedly, pulling my hands and pushing him away as I see Chloe approaching the table again. "Woah, what a night…" Chloe sings, throwing herself in the seat next to me. I look at Digger and he seems utterly pissed, downing his pint. I want to remind him again how it was his idea for me and Chloe to be mates. "Zeke is a really good dancer. Where did I find you?" She flutters her eyes at him and they fall in to conversation, sometimes glancing at us and making us agree.

Digger stays quiet, his head inclined towards the table, the frustration echoed across his face. So I put my hand underneath and touch his leg as I lean into him. He does look at me inquisitively, however, allows me to get close to whisper.

My tongue licks the entire length of his ear before I say the words intentionally slow and quiet. " _Please fuck me… Captain Boomerang_ …" My head dizzies at the thought as it's so outrageous.

His slate eyes lock onto mine, and he stands instantly, not bothering to acknowledge the other two we are with. He simply tells them:

"I need to fuck my Eunacorn." And I giggle when he pulls me to him, grabbing our jackets last minute.

I don't care what Chloe thinks of me, or our relationship – if you can call it that.

As we stumble across the dancefloor to the exit throwing on our jackets, Digger locks his fingers against mine, pulling me towards him as he walks backwards, singing that awfully merry song he made up in the bathroom earlier. My hands grip on to the soft pleats either side of his trench and he pulls me in about to kiss me, his shoulder barging the double doors open to the quieter lobby at the same time.

"Ah…If it isn't the man himself… _Captain Boomerang_ …" The voice is drawn, playful and sardonic. I feel Digger freeze up underneath my touch, and he almost looks apologetic when he looks at me.

I peel my eyes away in curiosity. The horror flooding through every limb when I set upon the owner of the voice. No one could look past the green chopper hair fixed back and the word 'Damaged' on his forehead and not know who this was.

I feel the tears spike behind my eyes and my blood draining from my body. Digger swirls a thumb on the back of my hand probably noticing how cold I've gone.

"I think me and you need to a have a little chat, don't you?" Joker twists his head unnaturally, bearing a sneer of silver teeth at us. His clothes are dysfunctional, a black shirt undone to almost half way down his body with a purplish overcoat thrown over the top. "Please… join me." He motions to the main doors with a white tattooed hand.

Digger moves and I try and stop him, almost about to beg him not to go. "Dig-" But he squeezes, dropping my hand. I get the look he gives me, saying 'Stay here.'

Joker's eyes sear into me, past Digger. "And the girl too…"

I watch as Digger gets to the doors, hearing what he just said and turning back for me. But he's grabbed and hauled out, fighting with the multiple holds on him.

"Come on…" Joker holds out a hand, his long fingers curling at me, so I take a step towards him. I know better than to run, and he has Digger. " _My_ …you are a pretty pretty _pretty_ little thing…" He takes my hand courteously, but I know it's completely fake and I dare not think of what's going through his mind right now.

My lip trembles at the dark car that skids off as we step outside. And I try hopelessly to stifle the sob as Joker digs his nails in my hand, watching as someone pulls up in a loud, green and purple Lamborghini.

"We're going for a little drive…"

* * *

A/N

Oh yes.

Oh no.

Lots of Oh's.

Yeah, don't hate me either ;)

Thanks for all your great messages!


	6. Chapter 6

**I don't like putting warnings. But just keep in mind this is rated M for a reason. ;) – I might make this winky face a suggestive warning to any chapter in future that goes a little… in-depth.**

* * *

"W-where are we going?" My voice echoes out into the cold, stagnant air. I don't care how quaky I sound or how my lips tremble when I talk. I'm not going to deny that I'm utterly terrified.

Not only that but I can't see Digger. And I assume the black car before was what he was bundled into.

A man gets out of the Lamborghini and throws Joker the keys which he catches mid-air showing off the nasty smiling mouth tattooed on his hand. He doesn't treat me courteously anymore, he grabs my cropped jacket and almost throws me to the door of the passenger side for me to get in. I stumble, but catch my feet last minute as the door slides upwards and I fall into the hard leathered seats.

Joker jumps in the driver's side with athleticism, eagerly starting the engine and pulling off before the doors even shut. "My _pretty_ girl, you're gonna love this…" I think he's talking about the speed and how he passes other vehicles within centimetres to spare. I close my eyes, willing myself not to scream as I know that's what he wants.

"Are you his pet?"

I can barely hear him with the pulse in my ears and my eyes clamped shut.

"I said, _sweet thing_ , are you his pet?" He yanks my ponytail at the back, not looking at the road at all.

My eyes glance from him to the road, holding the doors handle to steady myself. He doesn't look to the road and I'm guessing he won't till I answer. "I'm not a pet!" I reply quickly.

We take a corner skidding, and now I scream. We are out of control, flying sideways and the momentum has me leaning towards him no matter how much I try and hold on. "Not a pet. Not a pet. Not a pet…" He chants to himself under his breath.

I close my eyes again and beg this to end. The bile is in my throat and one more stunt like that and I'm going to hurl. He certainly wouldn't like that.

And just when I feel I can't swallow it down anymore, we stop. I force my eyes open and we're outside a large warehouse sat between two huge buildings. The shutters come up immediately and we drive into flood lights and numerous men in suits lingering around. Most of them pin-striped.

Joker gets out without even paying attention to me, and that's because one of his goons has opened my door and is dragging me out. "Alright…Okay… I can walk…" I plead him to take his hands off me. He only does when we get near the bottom of metal steps, Joker on the first few waiting, and he grabs me by the back of the jacket, pulling me up with him.

We pass through a small room and it's bathed in white light, just a table in the middle and various maps and outlays on the walls. The men in here snarl at me and some laugh as we pass. This is not where we are stopping however, he continues through and opens another door to a much larger room. I guess it's the attic space of the warehouse as it follows the same shape.

In here I see Digger on a chair, a couple feet back from a long meeting table, and he's faced towards it. It's not as bright in here, it's lit mainly by one light over a large screen that sits behind the table on the wall. Digger looks over his shoulder and his whole body tenses, arms flexing and I realize he's cuffed.

"Now this is very interesting…" Joker speaks still walking and shrugging off his jacket at the same time. He delicately sits down the other side of us and clamps his hands together eagerly. "I have to say, I am thrilled right now to have guests." Neither of us reply and Joker tilts his head. "Quiet guests… I was expecting some great reunion, but ya have smarts, I'll give you both that…"

Digger looks at me again. I'm still standing to one side, my whole body shaking and fists clenched up to stop myself from crying.

"She said she ain't your pet. So what is she, _Captain_? In fact, why don't we hear it from her. What's ya name?"

I look around to everyone in the room, spotting some goons in the darkness watching, so I swallow, trying to steel myself. "Eunice."

A big clap and Joker begins laughing. My body shudders and I take a step back when he throws his chair scooting out from underneath him. The legs scrape on the floor and he bowls over to me, spinning a chair, shoving me into it and planting a foot between my legs. Next he grabs my face bringing it close to his and breathing in against my skin.

"What do ya want?" Digger finally barks demandingly. "She aint got no game to be 'ere." This is what Joker wanted, a reaction.

"That's where your wrong…" He lets go but still keeps his foot in place. It's threatening in a passive way. He's showing what control he has on the both of us. "…I think, I've found a lil' something that keeps your interest. And this lil' something…" He points to me. "Is going to come in very handy." Joker rubs a hand on his chin, paces from side to side, then lurches towards Digger. When he gets there, there's an almighty crack as he backhands him. Gripping his shoulder, he leans into his ear but I can still hear him. "You know; I've mysteriously lost some of my men. Six now to be precise, but we ain't getting smitten over that right now. However, those six need replacing."

"Ain't got shit to do with me." Digger's reply is the wrong one as he's smacked again.

"Listen, me and you ain't going to get along if you can't keep your mouth shut." Digger spits onto the ground. It must be blood; the hits were hard enough. Joker's strong for such a thin looking guy. I wonder if Digger got loose, would Joker even stand a chance against him on even ground. "So you can see I got quite the predicament." He begins laughing again. That sickening, evil laugh that coils every hair on your body.

"That's your problem, mate." My stomach tightens because I know what's coming. Joker raises his hand, but this time fisted.

"Wait!" My own voice frightens me. "Please, don't hurt him. Please." It seems to work. The fist lowers and he's grinning again, but mainly at Digger.

"Can it, bird."

"She aint a pet. She's ya warmth, the squeeze in the evenings after a long hard day…" Joker's voice lowers and he massages Digger's shoulders. "Oh I bet it's nice, a nice change." He then pulls on his beard. "I tell you what. Because I'm a nice man, I'm gonna give you two a little option."

"Fuck you." Digger's booted in his exposed stomach. Unable to curl in on himself to hold the pain and grunts of stifled air wracking him in his chair.

Joker walks up to me, crouches at my feet and leans on my thighs. "I think the brain is in this one. Do you know who would love to play with you? I got a golden sweet toffee myself. My princess. She would love you, love you she would." I'm frowning at him the entire time. "What do you say, _pretty_ , you want to come to terms, we could all be the best of friends. I'd hate for you to say no."

I look at Digger, my hardened face crumbling as he shakes his head at me, still wheezing. "W-what…what terms?" I must be crying because Jokers drags a thumb down my cheek, pausing at my bottom lip.

He smirks.

"Lover boy does my looting, and I want you to do my tooting."

"Don't listen tah him. Everythin' that comes out of his yap is a lie." Digger's words make Joker pierce his nails on my face. He stands abruptly, beginning to pace again. This guy is truly a psycho.

"You have three seconds to accept or I'm ramming one of those Boomerang's in his neck. One…Two…"

"Okay! I accept… We accept." I don't know what the hell I've just signed myself up for, and ultimately Digger. But I knew he would go through on his threat without a second thought. He's playing me and Digger off of each other, perfectly.

"Tell me, _little pretty_. Get me out of my own curiosity, because we know curiosity always kills the cat and we can't have that can we… What _were_ _you_ to him?"

My face must appear blank, because I have no idea how to reply from his confusing questions. "What was I?"

"Before you let him have your candy." A few scoffs echo around the room from his men and I can feel the heat in my chest beginning to rise.

"He wanted to store some things at mine…he needed… a stash-"

"A Stash-" He coos. "This all started because he needed you to be his stash?" I just nod, I'm angry more than anything now and completely humiliated. "Tell me… what do you think you are to him _now_?"

I lift my head up to Digger. His jaw tense and I can see he's trying to break the cuffs by sheer force. He won't look at me. "I-I don't know."

"I'll tell ya." Joker sniffs. "You're the only reason why he's still alive. That's what ya are. You're not just his stash, but his lifeline. You hearing me?" I nod again. "And if our little Aussie friend doesn't comply to my rules, then I'm really sorry because I'll have to kill ya – and visa-versa. No hard feelings there though, sweets. I like you, I do."

At least Joker's temper seems sated now. He runs hand through his green hair and begins strolling back to his chair, casually kicking his feet up on the table when he gets there, and lights a cigar. The curls of smoke billow around him, and I can tell he's overly thinking something in his head because that sneer hasn't left his face.

"Puddin'!" I hear behind me. A pale woman in pigtails with next to nothing on, skips past my chair, straight over to him and on his lap. They kiss expressively in front of us and I have to look away. I try and make eye contact with Digger, but he's too furious to even bear a glance at me.

How is this my fault? But then maybe it was. If he didn't get involved with me, he wouldn't be here. And I bet he's thinking that right now.

The thought makes my heart clench, and dead weight in my stomach drop. I think I'm crying again, but I'm too scared to actually touch and find out. The tears fall without any warning, I know that's the sincere gesture of fear, and unlucky for me it's on display to everyone in this room.

Joker's whispering in her ear, and she looks over coyly, fingering a curl in her hair. Nodding, she stands. The whole room quiet. "I'm Harley." She holds her hand out to me. "Nice ta meet ya." She's smiling too, very much like Joker.

I can't risk not shaking her hand. My own trembles when I lift it, forcing myself to shake. The next thing I know she's pushing her legs through the arms of my chair, straddling my lap. I sit completely ridged. She's about the same size as me, but it hurts my legs regardless.

"I got a little present for ya." Her hand dips into her bra, and she pulls out a packet. She pops it and a tiny pill falls out.

"Ya gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me." I hear Digger say. "Don't-"

"I'm not gonna hurt her…" Harley sticks her lip out at him, feigning hurt. "I'm just gonna help her relax." Her eyes are on me again and she places the pill on her tongue. "Now be a good girl." She leans forward, placing her lips against mine. I'm just stuck to my chair, too afraid to move and my hands gripping the arm rests. I feel her tongue jut out, forcing it's way into my mouth and the pill rolled onto the back of mine. Pulling back, she holds my nose and mouth, laughing.

I can't help but swallow.

"Now let me see…" I open my mouth. "Was that good, Daddy?"

"Amazing, Princess."

"You won't like what I gotta do next." She tells me. "Give it a few minutes and ya won't care." Digger's talking in the background, then yells something. My arms yanked out from underneath me, my jacket rolled up to expose soft skin of my forearm. I physically can't stop her. I'm beginning to feel numb, my head fogging to the commotion going on around me.

I look towards Digger. Only to see he's managed to push the chair backwards with him still in it as Joker's men begin surrounding him.

A sting has me hissing and whipping my head back to Harley. She's scratching something on my skin. "What…is…that…" My voice sounds spaced and it's hard to get the words out. I'm all too dizzy. Everything too heavy. My eyes begin rolling no matter how much I try to keep them open.

I want to care. I want to feel this. But I can't. Right now I don't care about anything.

"A tattoo." She shrugs.

"Oh. That's…nice." Harley laughs at me. "I feel…"

"Shh. You're a tired girl. Don't fight it. Our Daddy will make sure you get home safe and sound, don'tcha worry."

The images after are fleeting.

Sometimes I can feel hot or cold.

I see Joker's face again; he's saying something to me while laughing, then kissing my forehead. Harley is dancing around me. Someone touches my face. "I want to go home." I don't know whether I actually say it or not out loud. "Please." I suddenly feel like I'm falling. Maybe I am. It's an awfully long fall.

No I'm not falling. I can smell the leather jacket. I'm being carried. I see Digger's face, it's pulled taut, an etching of multiple different emotions. I realize he's saying something over and over. "It's alright… It's alright." Take me home, Digger. Please. "We're almost back." Can he read thoughts? "Ya just trippin', little bird, aint nothin' wrong with it."

The temperature rises around me and I see the familiar white stained ceilings of the complex as he rushes through.

I'm home. "You are."

My joy is short lived. Somethings rammed down my throat, multiple times, the toilet bowl shining back at me. How did I even get here?

Then I'm in the shower, cold water piercing my skin as I shiver. I'm so confused I want to scream. I realize I actually am when Digger's hand covers my mouth and his fingers stroke against my skin. He's hushing me, just like Harley did.

It grows dark and quiet and I begin to wonder if I didn't make it and I'm actually dead.

"Ya not dead, Eunacorn."

It feels like minutes' tick by before I can finally open my eyes wide enough to see.

The room is bright so I gather its daytime now. I'm in the middle of the bed, a flannel on my forehead which I assume Digger has put there. I gradually allow myself to sit up, my head throbbing, but it's not the only thing throbbing, my arm is too. I realize I'm in Digger's Boomerang shirt, which is overly too big for me. I roll the sleeves back to the ache and everything hits me at once.

They've branded me.

I have a thick J on the inside of my forearm, the lines are wonky and it's not centre. I want to scream. I want it off - now.

I grab the flannel and rush to the bathroom, placing my arm in the sink. My legs are like jelly; they shake at the knees constantly. It must be the after effect of whatever they gave me, and to be honest I don't even want to know what they forced down my throat.

I turn the water to cold and then begin scrubbing, scrubbing so hard my skin is instantly red. I muffle a sob from the pain by biting my lip and blinking back stinging tears. I come to the conclusion this flannel won't work, I need something sharper. Skimming around the room, landing on my razor, I break it on the side and grab the blade, digging it straight into the ugly marred skin.

I'll cut the fucking thing off then have that branded on me for life.

The blood runs with water in the sink, swirling down the plughole and I'm glad. I wish I could see the black stain swirling too, but I don't. " _Fuuuuck, little bird_." I'm yanked away, dropping my blade.

"No! I don't want it!" I fight, my arm bloodied, but he doesn't care as he pulls me into his chest. "I don't _want it_!"

"I know. I know…" His fingers massage against my neck. "But we match now, sweetheart." He pulls back a little and I see the scarring J on his skin, the same place as mine. "It can be fixed."

"I never wanted a tattoo! Ever!" I'm openly bawling into him now, bringing my hands up to my face. "I'm scared. I've never been so scared in my life!"

"C'mon. Ya need to eat summit." He grips the back of my knees and picks me up, taking me into the living space. "I'll let ya in to a lil' secret if you promise to stop blubbin'."

I rub my eyes peeking up at him. "What?" He places me on the couch and gets to my level in front of me.

"I was scared too."

"But…but you don't get scared." I watch him as he gets up, grabs a cloth off the side and puts it on my arm.

"I weren't scared for me." His blue eyes flick up to me. I feel there is more he wants to say because he sighs. "I didn't know what was happenin' tah ya when they put me in the car. Then when Harley got on ya, I couldn't do anythin' to stop that pale ass bitch. I thought I was losin' ya to the trip last night."

I suddenly notice it looks like he hasn't slept and the bruise pronounced on his cheek.

"I shouldn't have walked in that café." Digger's voice is low. "None of this should of happened, but it did, because of me. Of who I am. I'm not good for ya lil' bird."

"What are you saying?!" I grip onto his arm desperately. "…don't go." My voice warbles again, I really wish I wasn't this pathetic. "…you can't."

"Nah, I'm too selfish." Through his tiredness he still manages to wink at me. "'ere." He holds out a blueberry muffin. "Fill yaself and we're goin' back to bed."

"What's the time?"

"Five."

"In the morning?"

"No, the afternoon, ya been writherin' in there trippin' all day." Digger tries to pull away but I grip harder, pulling him of balance till he gets the gist and sits on the couch next to me. "Ya aint gonna like what I tell ya, darl'. But ya gonna have to grin and bear it." He pushes the muffin up to my mouth. "We ain't finished wid that man and his dog. He's got me by the balls." Digger's head falls back as he exhales. "He found out it was me because he ain't a thick cunt. He's got crooks as bluey's, givin' him everythin' he wants."

"What does that mean?"

"When ye filed the attack, he got what he wanted then. He knew who ya were already, just playin' ya… Four guys lookin' for a rob. Four guys ended up dead. The girl resigns."

"I thought deadshot-"

"Ay, yeah, Deadshot's done a slip after the job, knew the consequences." In his thoughts he grabs my legs, putting them over his. "Joker's hunting Deadshot because he done a runner. He's more than dead if he's caught."

"He said six guys. So how did he know about the ones in the alley?"

"Injuries consisted of a sharp flyin' object…Boomerang. You put the pieces together. I told ya he's smart, don't underestimate him."

I don't feel hungry anymore, just sick. "So what does he want?"

"His money…from the clubs. He wants me to collect. Knock a few heads together so he don't have tah by the sounds of it."

"So what about me; what does tooting mean?"

"The bit ya aint gonna like… He wants you to deliver it tah him so he knows I ain't pullin' any funny business." My heart stops and he must know how reluctant I am as he runs his hands up and down my calf. "I'll be right there wid ya, doll. We ain't got much say right now."

"What are we going to do? We can't just be his… _toys_ …"

"We grin and bear it, for now. Like I said…" His head drops a little towards his chest in thought. "I'm workin' on summit…" He trails off. "Do ya trust me?"

" _Yeah_ …what does working on something mean?"

"If I told ya to leave Gotham, last minute, would ya drop everythin' and follow me?"

This suddenly seems like a huge commitment. I stare down at the muffin in my hand for a minute.

"It may be a month or a year from now…"

It sweet he's thinking of further into the future, but grave because of the circumstances. However, it tells me he isn't thinking of leaving me behind any time soon. "Yes." He could just scamper at the drop of the hat, leave me here. For some reason, I think he won't.

"Ya stuck with me." He tells me, laughing to himself. But I don't see it like that. I'm grounded with him rather willingly. "Now eat up. I need a shower I stink…"

I watch him as he disappears into the bedroom, then smile to myself.

That's as good as I'm going to get in words out of Captain Boomerang over the subject being commitment.

I'm more than just his stash.

* * *

My sleeping pattern is completely messed up. I wake with a startle in the dead of night having dreamt of Joker's sneering face in mine, that awful laugh echoing in my ears.

The only place I thought he couldn't get me was in my dreams. I thought I could escape for a little while, but that's not possible now.

My hair is still damp as I pull my fingers through it. I joined him in the shower not long after I finished my muffin. Digger actually trimmed his beard with a boomerang and shaved the sides of his hair short in that small amount of time. I found the hair grossly all over the sink when I walked in the bathroom, but he needed it.

The length on top it much less wild now than what it was, I guess he chopped some of that off too. He looks a lot younger being a bit tidier, and even more so in his sleep.

After our shower we both slipped between the sheets, falling asleep quickly. He was more tired than he was letting on, and right now he snores lightly next to me, dead to the world on his back.

I don't know why I do, but I want to touch him. I reach out, following the lines of his 'MUM' tattoo on his chest. I kind of wonder what my name would look like on his skin. Would he get Eunice? I don't think so, more likely Eunacorn at this rate. I'm smiling at the thought when he suddenly mumbles something and I whip my hand back.

I bite my lip for another minute, mulling over everything until I'm brave enough. I take a deep breath, then pull the covers back a little, climbing on top of him till my legs are either side. He wakes instantly, grabbing onto my hips and his eyes suddenly widen.

"Little bird?" He questions me. But I shake my head at him. I lean down to his cleanly shaven neck, the part not covered in hair, and press my lips there, the lightest I could. He groans underneath me, so I suck the skin into my mouth, alternating as I move towards his shoulder then moving lower down.

His hands stroke up my bare back, gliding across my ribs, then dig in as I flick my tongue against his nipple.

"When I said ya could straddle me in my sleep, I didn't think yah'd actually do it." I giggle against him and he pulls me back up to him, floundering me in his strong grasp because I can't move.

"What's wrong?" I suddenly feel he doesn't want me. Maybe that's all he was, all talk.

"I want ta see yah face." He chuckles at my confused frown, then lifts his head up closer to whisper. "I want ta see yah face when ya meet my cock." – Okay maybe he's not all talk.

Digger shuffles up toward the head board sitting himself up and pulling me with him. He licks and bites my skin, taking one breast in his hand as the other slides in between us.

I'm already wet I know. Just being this close, his skin on mine, the taste of him lingering in my mouth, it was impossible not to be.

He plays with my nerves, gently at first then pushes two fingers inside me. But that's not what I want, and he knows it. It still makes me whimper and when my head falls forwards, he pushes it back. "Nah, I want to see ya." I practically whine when his fingers disappear. But it's only because he's slickening his erection in my want for him. …Oh…

"Dontcha dare look away, yah got that?" I nod. "Say it."

"I won't look away."

"Fuckin' ay." On his words I feel him at my entrance, and he pushes me down and bucks up at the same time, forcing his way inside me.

My mouths open and I have to hang onto his shoulders to steady myself. I look at him and he looks wild, feral even, as he supposedly gives me a second to adjust.

"I didn't say I was gentle, did I, love?"

I have no time to regret what I've started. He pulls me up and pushes inside me again, deeper this time. His fingers dig into my skin, and he groans after each thrust. I try to work with him but he's too reckless for me. I can't keep up. He's everywhere and anywhere at the same time.

"Yah gonna scream." He says smugly. "I like a scream."

Oh fuck.

He flips me off him roughly, the air knocked from my lungs as he climbs back on top, entering as quickly as he can. Digger lacks control at the best of times and I've openly invited him without any protest to do what he wants to me. I can't say that I don't like it.

He pushes one thigh to the side, gripping the back of my head as he delves deeper and deeper. He seems to get frustrated and pulls on my hips, scooting me impossibly closer underneath him. He rises up, one hand on my thigh, the other pushing my stomach down.

Digger doesn't care for neighbours, he grunts loudly, satisfactorily with each drive. I'm literally at his mercy. I should've known how vocal he would most likely be from how much I actually know him - this is something else.

His eyes are everywhere. My face. My breasts. My stomach. Then where we are joined. He bites his lip when he looks there, and he gets more crazy in his movements when he does. I try to steady myself on the bed, holding the covers above my head as I'm forever jostled towards him.

Then he moves away again, flipping me onto my front and pulling up my ass with my face in the mattress. "Don't hurt me…" Is all but a squeak from me.

"No, but I'm teachin' ya a lesson. One ya won't forget…"

He slams inside me. The pleasure is instant in a painful way and I cry out this time.

"There we go." I hear him say behind me, just as he pulls back and does it again. One of his hands cups my clit and he rubs that every time he moves. It's continuous, I feel it's never going to end, my knees buckle, my throat dry and my cries sharp.

Suddenly, everything boils up at the same time. "I'm gonna-" I try and say.

"Not like that." He knocks me off balance till I roll on my side. This time our bodies are close, but he doesn't let up, keeping the same momentum, if not picking up a little. Sometimes he would smack my thighs, pulling at the skin, grabbing my ass underneath us.

His whole form covers mine easily. I'm nothing compared to him. My body tiny in his hands and he moves me how he pleases, manipulating my limbs to whatever way he deems suitable.

My thighs are soaking wet between us. He strokes and hits places I've never felt with any man before. Every touch is powerfully brutal, but gratifyingly wonderful.

He bites my lip and growls, moving towards my breast, taking the skin in his mouth. I can feel his tongue. I can feel him pushing against my womb. I feel his fingers on my clit.

"I'm coming!" My voice an urgent shriek. But he doesn't stop. I'm unravelling, gasping out to him. There's no mercy there. If anything he tightens his hold on me, drilling me further.

Then suddenly, he throws his head back, the moan caught between a hiss and strangled yell. His release throbs out inside of me, hot and slick, warming my core and only enhancing my euphoria. The sensation makes him shudder and he lowers his forehead against mine, not pulling out.

"I didn't hurt ya?" Our eyes meet, and his seem hooded.

I frown because he doesn't sound so sure. But when he chuckles and sighs, I laugh with him. – Almost nervously.

A smirk creeps on Digger's face and I know some bullshit is about to roll of his tongue.

"I got to ride my Eunacorn."

"And I got my Captain Boomerang." His face lights up, and he pulls me closer.

* * *

A/N

I don't know about you but I'm still laughing over winky face.

Anyway, thank you so much for all your support and wow…Eunacorn and Digger have some great shippers. Very strong words being said about The Joker. Unfortunately, it won't be the last we hear of him.

That guest review 'My Theory' Show yourself, I think I laughed for a good ten minutes reading that!

I was going to put it off for a few more days uploading this chapter because I haven't even started the next. But you guys are great, and like you I hate not being able to read what happens on a cliffhanger. But that does mean the next one will take a little longer.

Anyway, enjoy!


	7. Chapter 7

I'm up before Digger. I've had enough sleep to last a lifetime. I'm incredibly energetic even with the ache between my thighs and loose backbone which he inflicted me with.

But I'm also kind of nervous. It always feels odd the next day having slept with someone, and I have no idea how he is going to act with me after this.

So that's why I've managed to clean the entire apartment. A nervous-frenzy-clean. A distraction.

The smell in the air is a mix of pine and other products. Not a speck of dust on any surface. I place my hands on my hips and give myself a big fat nod in satisfaction. – And now I'm gonna sit in it and revel in my tidiness.

 _Oh it feels good_. In my baggy nightshirt and bare legs, I flick the TV on and begin to lean back to watch it. Digger walks out, roughed up from sleep – naked.

"Digger!"

"What?" He's at the fridge and pulls the milk out, drinking straight from the carton.

"Stop!"

"What?" He opens up a cupboard, pulling out bread and jam. When the bread wrapper opens, crumbs scatter everywhere, onto everything I've just cleaned. He doesn't use a plate, but just the freshly polished counter.

"Stop what you're doing right now!"

"One drop on the cock and ya own me, I don't think so, darl'." My mouth drops open and I stare at him in rage. He smirks at me over his shoulder. "Shit. What? What is it?" His eyebrows knit together, obviously thinking it's something far more grave.

My hand motions the space he's in. "I _just_ cleaned all this. You've destroyed it in nanoseconds!"

"Ya women need ya head fixing, this is bollocks." He mumbles. Turning towards me I try not to look down. "I need tah eat. What do I do?"

I cross my arms, still furious. "Number one; put some clothes on like a respectable human being. Two; don't drink from the carton. Three; at least try to not make a mess. Four; use a _god damn_ plate."

Okay I'm not nervous. I want to seriously injure him instead.

He's mumbling something else now as he searches for a plate, opening and closing different cupboards. He gets distracted half way and pulls out coffee and sugar. He may as well just throw the coffee granules around the room, as half of it falls on the side instead of the cup.

"My god, you are seriously-" Somebody knocks on the door. My eyes widen and I rush over to Digger, hiding behind one of his large arms. "Who is it?" It's safe to say my confidence is knocked a little from Joker. Any sudden movement or noise has my senses playing havoc.

"Can't see through walls." He's munching bread and jam, completely calm. I push his arm and he glares at me. "Fine." But my eyes land on his bum as he walks to the door, I tilt my head slightly in gratitude, then snap.

"Digger!"

It's too late.

"What can I do ya?" I hear Digger say. I'm embarrassed for him. Too embarrassed to see who it is. He still has bread in his hand and he leans against the frame, taking another bite.

"Heywoahhhh!" I hear Chloe. I imagine she's trying not to look, or just openly looking, I don't really know. "…naked." She sounds a little breathless now. "…very naked."

"You comin' in, love?" There's a playful tone to him. I shake my head chuckling, heading to the door to show my face.

"I'm not coming in, I just stopped by with your post." Chloe's wearing gym gear and she smiles at me slightly warmer than she ever has. Now this is very suspicious. "Hi, Euna."

"How was your night?" I opt for a diverting light question to clear the air. Ignoring the fact Captain Boomerang is completely starkers.

"Zeke's amazing isn't he. We had a great time. We should do it again. I've been calling you, to see how you're getting along…" She smirks. "I see that's it _all_ fine…"

"Ya know it." Digger winks, then strolls off into the room as guiltless as he was the day he was born.

"I'm sorry, he's not…conservative…" I pull the door to around me, god knows what he'll be doing now.

"What happened to you guys? I got a little worried…oh!" She puts her hand out to me. "I grabbed your post. It was actually the reason why I knocked. Usually you never leave your post."

"Very…thoughtful." I stare at the envelopes too long. Bills. And lots of them. Blinking, I try and keep my overly happy smile on my face.

" _Tell me_ …" She whispers. " _What_ is your secret?"

"Err…"

"What did you do to snag him?" She leans more forward, looking overly eager for me to spill some sort of information to her that I don't actually have. Her eyes wander past the door and I follow the line of sight. Digger's on the couch, still ramming his face with food.

"I honestly don't have a clue. He sort of… wandered in." It wasn't really a lie. He did just wander in. He wandered in to the bar, then wandered into the café, then wandered in to my apartment. …I wonder where else he wanders… I must be squinting in thought because Chloe looks at me funny. "I couldn't tell you. Why are you so interested anyway?" I step more into the hall so the door is almost closed. "Forgive me if I'm wrong, but why are you so bothered with what I'm doing now when before you couldn't care any less?"

It looks like I've just smacked her. Her mouth is hanging open, her eyes wide. Then she bursts into tears. Full head-in-hand tears.

What the fuck.

"I'm not used to Gotham. I'm new here. Before I was dating a guy with money, lots of it. I thought I had friends then, but they weren't my friends, it was all fake. Everything fake. Even my relationship. He promised to marry me, make me happy. Then the next bimbo came along!" She's completely wailing now. I tap a stiff uncomfortable hand on her shoulder. "I have no one. I'm twenty-nine years old!"

"Now…I'm sure that's not-"

She makes me jump, her voice so high I take a step back. "I have no friends! I made friends through money, and now I don't have that, I don't even know how to make friends! I feel old and tired, my hair not done how it used to be… I work all day at the shoddy council offices with no humidifiers!"

"Well, you are a little imposing-"

"And now when I try…it's like I'm trying to hard!" Chloe looks up to the ceiling, trying to control the sobs. "I was just so jealous! Everything seems so perfect for you. The way he looks at you, I want someone to look at me like that! And you're _poor_!"

Oh if she only knew the half of it.

I grunt incredulously at her comment and ignore it, telling myself to not react. I'm beginning to realize exactly what type of person Chloe is. Her words are offending because that's the only thing she's ever known. She doesn't keep her thoughts to herself, and she can really be annoying at times. And vain…incredibly vain. I see her for what she truly is – harmless.

"Me and you are friends." I say soundly. Smiling when he finally stops blubbering and sniffs, wiping at her face. "I don't particularly see how you view the world, because I don't know your world. But I think we're friends."

She sniffs again, finally calming herself down. "You really mean that?"

"Yeah. But just don't knock my jeans again…"

Chloe grabs onto me so hard and embraces me tightly, her head cradled onto my shoulder. I guess she really just needed someone to hug. "Thank you, Euna. I know how frigid you can be."

And there we go, another harmless insult thrown into the works. "That's okay…but… but I'm not frigid."

"Yes…" She nods against me. "Yes, yes you are. You're very cold."

"Right! I think that's enough! I've gotta get going… Text me if you need to talk, okay?" That's enough Chloe for one day.

"Okay. Goodbye, friend!" She's instantly chirpy, almost a slight skip in her walk as she twiddles her fingers at me.

Whether I try and deny it to myself or not, I may be Chloe's one friend in Gotham, but unfortunately, she also just so happens to be mine.

"Now that was heart wrenchin', I gotta say." I didn't realize Digger was even standing by the door. Obviously eavesdropping the entire time. "I told ya you'd be mates. Captain Boomerang is always right…"

"Whatever-" But his large hands grip onto my hips, pulling me back against him while he boots the door behind him. He spins me, hoists me up and forces me to wrap my legs around him.

"You're a frigid little bird aren't ya. Sketchy as hell. Last night gettin' all brave and pash. Telling that female what she needed to hear…" He's holding me up higher than his head again. "Last night was amazin', doll. I haven't washed yet, I wanted to keep ya on me."

"That's disgusting, and you're failing miserably in the talking dirty department."

"I can knock it up a notch… _Ya like me talkin' dirty, bub_?" He purrs, grinning widely. Then nestles his face into my chest, growling at me. It kinda tickles. I don't want to laugh and encourage him but I can't help it.

"Okay stop!" I'm half-laughing, half trying to be angry. "Chloe bought my post up. By the looks of it, it's just bills, lots of them. I don't know whether it slipped your mind or not, but you made me quit my job remember."

"Fuck… _yeah_ …" He puts me down and I grab the letters, opening them.

"Electricity and gas. Water – _no_ , it _can't_ already be three months…" There's one with a red box around the amount. "Shit, tax…what am I gonna do? I'll have to ring them, tell them I'm down this month, maybe work something out."

"Doll, she'll be right. I'll sort it." He's back by the couch, putting his feet up to lie down. Just a mere hand flaps at me in the air.

"I can't rely on you…" I trail off spotting a yellow envelope. I work out it's from the garage by the small car picture in the top corner. I had _completely_ forgotten about my car. "Those absolute bastards! They've scrapped my car! They said it was because I had abandoned it. It's only been about a week! _That's it_!"

My whole face feels red with utter rage. I storm into the bedroom, strip the shirt over my head and shower in zero point two seconds. I'm pulling my underwear on when Digger finally comes in.

"Why ya so mad if it didn't work, did ya a favor didn't they?"

"You get money for scrapping it. And they can't do that without my permission!" I watch Digger as he starts getting dressed. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like, dappy? I'm getting' dressed. I'm not lettin' my Eunacorn have a face off without me…this is gonna be a fuckin' ripper." He chuckles to himself.

I bend over to pull my legs through my jeans. "I'm glad you find this amusing."

There's a huge whack as he slaps my ass.

* * *

Balling my hands into fists. I take a deep breath. - Digger snorts beside me. It only makes me the little more angrier and I tread confidently towards the drilling and barks of the men inside the garage.

They don't stop when I enter. They see me clearly though. "Uh hum." I clear my throat to the guy smoking behind the counter. It sounds like he's talking with his wife or girlfriend. He gives me a quick squint, then mumbles a goodbye. "Yes?"

"I'm Eunice Evans. My car was here last Friday with a coolant leak and I had you keep it here till I could figure out my finances and what to do with it."

"So?" The man's face is marred with oil and dirt. Tattoos run up each arm that he's purposefully showed off by rolling up his sleeves in his overalls.

"So…I got a letter saying you scrapped my car." My jaw aches with tension.

"And?" Now he has the audacity to sign something off on the table. He's not listening to me at all.

"I want the money I'm owed. It clearly states that if no work has been done on the car I don't have to pay for an inspection." With his feigned interest and Digger casually waiting outside with his phone in hand, I feel my confidence dwindling. "Today…please." I hold my head up high, expectant of my money and acting like I will not leave without out.

"Listen lady, we've taken that money in payment of keeping an eye out for it. You seriously where never going to get that piece of junk fixed. And when we didn't hear anything we thought you'd abandoned it. Caused some stress you know. We don't like vehicles parked up outside too long. Attracts the wrong kind of attention and affects our image. Can you see where I'm going?"

"Actually no. It's illegal." I cross my arms, raising an eyebrow.

Leaning forward, he smirks. "Bite me."

I'm so shocked, I'm stunned into silence. I look out at Digger who's still fiddling on his phone. If anything he looks bored. "Listen… _mister…"_ My voice lower than I've ever managed before. "…I want my money." I pull the jacket of my sleeve up and show him the 'J' tattoo. I actually had no idea it would work. But it's worth a shot. He'd be a fool to not know what that signified.

"Certainly."

That was easier than I thought.

He flicks through a hundred dollars and shoves them across the grubby counter. "Thank you." I tell him, with a quick scowl. My hair flicks as I turn and I smile at Digger he has a lop-sided grin towards me.

His eyes are beautiful today. They are almost the same color as the clouds which makes them stand out. I suddenly feel my stomach become fluttery when I look at him, and I bite the inside of my cheek. A blush soon erupts when I remember how good he felt naked against my skin.

When I approach his broad frame, he grabs at my hands, holding them laced with his. The size difference is laughable. How did they even fit…"Ya do what I tell ya?"

I snap away from the weird thought but I'm still flushed, I can feel it.

I don't really want to admit that I had to use Joker's influence because the guy was incapable of listening to me. But there is no point in lying, so I nod.

"Why ya red?"

"Oh, nothing. Just angry still." – I can lie about that…

* * *

Digger gives me cash to pay into my bank to cover bills. More than enough to cover me for four months.

When I went in, he stayed outside, looking a little on edge as he did. I didn't question him. I don't want to know why.

I'm relieved now more than anything. I don't have to think about preying vultures looking for their due or having to constantly look over my shoulder. However, it's also made me somewhat guilty. I've never had to rely on anyone, ever. But he sure doesn't seem fussed. I think he kind of likes me having to rely on him.

The relief must be on my face and echoed throughout my body because Digger flings an arm over me when I get back to him. "I need a few bits." He tells me. And that's how I find myself grinning towards him from a changing room stall.

He tries on two pairs of jeans which look identical, asking me what I think. I tell him they look the same and he seems happy with my answer. But the shirts afterwards are not. One is just a plain navy blue shirt with white buttons, the other black. If he didn't put on his trench coat, he'd look stylish in his jeans and boots. I try to imagine him without a beard, but it would look weird.

We're waiting for the woman as she folds the clothes, and his hands skim the tops of my jeans, under my jumper impatiently. Sometimes they would slip the band, pulling the top of my underwear where I would have to bat him away. He has a way with picking particular moments and sexual references at the worst of times.

" _Ya in for it tonight_." He whispers from my side, just as he snaps the band of my underwear. "That sexy face ya pull when ya mad has me revvin'."

"Now's not the time."

"Nah ya right. I wanna swoon ya first." He says it loud so the clerk looks at us, but she smiles. She's slightly older.

"Now aren't you a gentleman." She tells him. Clarissa – so her nametag says. She's only feeding his ego.

"Yeah Ma'am." He winks. "I got meself a lovely woman." He leans on the counter towards her. My neck gets clammy from the attention and I throw my hand there, rubbing and desperately looking for the exit. "Beautiful, ent she."

"Very pretty. And with such a handsome polite fellow like yourself…" Oh great, here we go… "How did you two meet? I bet it's a lovely story." She types numbers into the till, but slowly. Digger adds socks last minute that were in a basket by the counter.

"I'll tell ya. I was 'avin such a bollocks day. Countin' all the reasons why I stay 'ere in Gotham. Went to get meself a drink to drown my sorrows. I clap eyes on this beautiful one and she's been my Eunacorn ever since."

"Unicorn?" Her eyes blink a couple times.

"Don't ask… Shall we just get-"

"My Ma always said: 'When ya find a Unicorn, ya never let them go.' Cause their rare ya see."

I'm so embarrassed and there's people behind us now.

"That's… that's… the most _romantic_ thing I've ever heard someone say…" Clarissa gushes, holding a hand up to her heart. "Does he speak like this to you all the time?"

Digger smirks at me. "In a way…yes. I suppose he does." I'll leave out the grit.

"'Ere, Doll." He tries his best friendly face he can muster. "Is that 50 percent off non card holders as well?"

"No." Her eyes smile, then she leans over to whisper. " _But for you two. Just this once_."

My mouth drops open. The cheeky son of a Boomerang.

* * *

"That was smooth…" I say randomly. We sit in some small diner in town. I have the biggest chocolate milkshake in front of me as we wait for our food. Digger's sitting right back in the booth opposite me, his arm hooked over the back of it.

"Enlighten me, darl'. Women's brains sometimes cause me puzzlin'."

"At the store… Using charm."

"Ya gotta use god's gifts that he gave ya otherwise it's wasteful." He leans forwards now, resting on his elbows, but underneath the table he taps my foot with his. "Ya learn quick when ya need to. It's called adaptin'."

A devilish plan begins forming in my head. However, I don't know if I have the balls to go through with it. I know what will get his attention though. " _Captain Boomerang_ …" I say very quietly, and his face suddenly drops. "I haven't thanked you yet. For helping me at the bank and stuff. And last night…"

His hand creeps over the table, grabbing a hold of mine. "Ya know better than tah say my name like that. I'll have ya on ya knees if ya go on."

I almost choke on my shake. I don't doubt he wouldn't, so I don't push him any further. "I just wanted to say thanks… for not making it awkward."

We push away from our leant over, touching position as the waitress steps between us. We've ordered the same, burgers and chips with salad, but Digger has extra onion rings. The food is massive and I have a hard time keeping the bun together… He's already eaten half.

"Have you heard from _Joker_?" I say his name quietly.

"Friday night." He licks his fingers. "I'm goin' out Friday night. When I get back, we'll go see him together."

"Why?" My question even surprizes myself. "Why are you bothering with me so much? You could be free of this. There's plenty of other woman who would jump at the chance to be with you."

Digger stops chewing. "Do ya honestly think that low of yaself, little bird? And of me? One nip of the prat parade and I'll scamper."

"You're so relaxed about this…I feel like I'm going out of my mind here"

"I've been up shit creek further than I'd like in the past. This is just a lil' doowapper. A kink. She'll be right." Another chip finds its way into his mouth and I sigh, making him nudge my foot again. "Look at me." So I do. "Maybe don't, I'm getting' jizzed…" I laugh a little and he smiles. "Look, trust me alright? Let me do the worryin' and ya can be all pretty for me."

I snort into my food. "I don't think you've noticed, but I'm a complete geek. _And_ …that's kinda sexist."

"I'm all man." And he throws a scrawny chip at me. He's managed somehow to finish his food and I've had three bites. So, intently, he watches me eat every mouthful like he has some eating paraphilia. He crosses his arms leaning back and taps my foot continuously.

"Can you stop watching me, it's really off-putting."

"Why?"

"Because…"

"I like watchin' ya. I particularly like ya face…" I blush. "Especially when ya go red. Ya face was a different kind of red last night though."

"Digger!" He laughs at me.

"I'm just playin' wid ya. Eat up. I wanna take ya somewhere." I eye him cautiously, then push my plate to the middle. He shares my chips and we sit quietly, happy in each other's company as we people watch from time to time.

I still catch him staring at me though, and how his fingers would brush against mine.

* * *

"It's still early. We can't go to a bar now." My arms linked underneath his. "I'm not even dressed nicely…look at me…"

His eyes slide over my body. "I am." He smirks. "It's six. What's ya trouble?"

"It's a Thursday!" I try to protest as we saunter down an alleyway away from the main street. "I don't like this."

"Trust me." We stop suddenly at a door. He knocks once, then waits. " _Trust me_ …" He whispers, squeezing my fingers tightly. The door swings open and a huge man with a ginger beard looks us up and down menacingly. I swallow and want to run instantly. Gah, I'm such a coward.

"What's the craic?" Digger says.

For another second the guy roams over us. His accent is heavy; I can barely understand him. "As you slide down the bannister of life…"

"May the splinters never point in the wrong direction." It seems to be the right answer, as he steps aside.

The large guy then claps Digger on the shoulder. "Good to see ya!" There's now a smile and if anything, he reminds me of a huge hairy bear. "Who's this?"

"I'm Euna." I hold out my hand, but he hauls me to him, hugging me. "Oh…oh…okay…We do hugging here…"

"It's lively. Gonna be rammed by nine, it's in ma gizzards." He points down some dark steps. There's faint noises coming from down there somewhere, it sounds ghostly. I'm pulled forwards on knocking knees and Digger guides me down. He's obviously done this before, more than once. "Get that lady a drink on me!" The big guys voice echoes after us.

"Now, listen. It's a bit lively. There's a few lines that sometimes get crossed. And you'll see more than one clash. But no one will touch ya. Do ya understand?"

"Clash? As in _fight_?"

"Good ones at that." I can hear music now when we hit the last step. We are in some kind of stone basement. Up ahead there's a door and now I can see people as it swings open and a young woman passes by us.

The music gets louder and louder. It's not bass, or typical party music. I specifically hear a fiddle and drums and whooping.

We step through and it's overly loud that I can't hear myself think, I have to shout. There's round tables littered about unevenly. Someone's arm wrestling. Another is winning at cards on a table and they all cheer as one gets up and overturns it. I flinch at the sight and Digger pulls me away towards the bar.

The guy behind it sees Digger coming, his blue eyes lighting up and he holds his hands in the air. "By god baby Jesus. If it ent me old friend!" His accent is completely Irish. He's small, but very wide with bushy sideburns. He lands on me and I peer around nervously. Then meekly wave a hello. "Who's this?!"

"My Eunacorn!" Digger tells him. And again, the Irish man seems to understand by just nodding, then nudging him saying. "Here!" Whispering in his ear. They both start laughing and so I dare another look around the room.

It's a live band. Their movements jerky, finger's wildly playing their instruments. They don't sing, it's all instrumental. They just 'whooped' or whistled when they lost themselves in it or trying to encourage each other. People danced in the middle, simple dance moves, just swinging around each other. Old and young alike.

"…dance!" I hear next to me and almost jump. A man with a cap tilts his head at me in greeting. "I said! Did you want to dance!"

"No! I don't dance! Sorry!" I basically scream in his ear.

"Shame!" He smiles. He's very young, younger than me that's for sure.

Fingers curl onto my shoulder and I know who they belong to. But I find him sitting on a stool now when I turn, pulling me to him as he parts his legs. In his hand is a beer and he gives me it. "Ya can relax 'ere. No men of Joker will be here." Digger says when he beckons me to him.

"It's a nice atmosphere!"

He nods, and we drift off to the commotion around us.

"Euna!" I hear Digger call my name. My actual name that he never uses. It sounds strange coming from him. It sounds strange with his accent. I remind myself to log this moment as a milestone. "If anythin' happens tah me. Ya come 'ere. Ya understand?"

"What?..." That was not what I was expecting.

"That's Paddy Allen. He'll look after ya if I'm not 'ere. Ya remember how to get in?"

"…I think… but Digger." He shakes his head at me.

"Just promise me. This one thing." There's a slight hitch in his tone. He's completely serious. Digger usually doesn't do serious.

"Okay. I promise. But nothing's going to happen, don't say that." He gazes at me a little while longer, his mouth opens as he's about to say something - till someone knocks his shoulder.

A woman, heavily adorned in make-up.

"Well, if it ain't Digger, my eyes are deceiving me!" They hug quickly, and the woman looks at me. Her hair is auburn red, and extremely curly, clipped back. She wears all black and she smells like beer and cigarettes. Her smile is friendly though. "Oh…hello there!" Her lips curl and she gives Digger a wink.

"Hi!"

"You warm or something? Let's get that off." She begins yanking my jacket off. "You know the rules here clearly states all ladies gotta dance at some point."

"I don't dance…" I tilt my head a little, hoping she catches how uncomfortable I am. But she doesn't.

"Nonsense!" Her hand whacks Digger's arm. "You don't mind if I steal her for a bit?" He shrugs, sipping his beer and eyeing me over the brim of it. I wordlessly plead him but he smirks at me.

"Ladie's gotta dance…" He repeats.

"This is a really terrible idea…" I say to her as she links my arm and all but drags me through a pile of bodies to the middle. The music is cheery. Really upbeat. But I don't have the slightest clue as where to start. Luckily enough I don't have to think about it long because I'm grabbed and swung, pulled and pushed and dragged in a cheery fashion. I actually laugh when an older gentleman catches me and we snake around the room.

I don't dance, but I can pretend I do. There's no wrong or right way.

It takes me a while to realize I've lost the original woman, and while still linked to the older gentleman I spot her by Digger. She's whispering in his ear and he's looking at me expressionlessly until he seems to bark something back at her in irritation. Another twirl and I'm on the other side of the room. Paddy's there now and I frown.

"Here, love!" The gentleman says. He hands me a beer and I down it in one, my curiosity brimming. But we don't stop, I'm dragged by my hand by a young boy, swerving under arms and spinning away across the floor before I can even burp from the built-up bubbles. The music only speeds up and my head swims. I take a drink off a table to which they don't protest and down that too. I'm beginning to enjoy myself.

The music comes to a finale and everyone bows at each other. I'm laughing uncontrollably, breathlessly. The gentleman smiles then looks over my shoulder as strong hands spin me round.

"I'm takin' ya home." Digger strokes my now sweaty face. "Ya don't realize what ya have done to me, do ya lil' bird." His words are almost strained, painful even.

"What's that?"

He tugs my hand lightly, leading me away. "Let me show ya."

Like a trance, I follow him. And I probably always will.

* * *

A/N

Okay. So this can be considered a filler, but I don't see it like that. I wanted to show Digger's charm, and introduce a little something that will be handy in the future. Not going to highlight exactly what.

But considering the chapter before was a little dark I wanted to bring in some light.

Oh, And I totally didn't go traditional at the beginning there on purpose. Their relationship is kinda different ;)

Thanks for all your support.

I hope you enjoy.


	8. Chapter 8

;)

* * *

Digger spins me to him before we've even made our way to the exit. I'm a cluttering mess, but his feet are planted solidly, keeping me upright. I look up at him and his face changes…

…The one where the crude smile emerges like he's got an ingenious plan formed.

He waits until my mouth opens to ask what he's doing, before he forces his lips against mine. It's kind of rough, but there is a sense of impatient longing there.

This kiss is messy, on both our parts. The drink having gone to my head and his urgency make a formidable fence for us to hurdle. My hands find their way inside his trench, skimming along the silky nylon material of his 'Captain' jumper. I can feel the dips of his body even through this. The tangling of muscle that's formed on his sides. I mesmerize every touch.

His tongue slips into my mouth and the significant taste of the beer we've both been drinking is evident. It almost shyly touches against mine, before coming more forceful, making me have to adapt to the way he would like to take charge. One of his arms pulls me to him, but the other is restricted by my jacket slung over it, the fingers just managing to skim my side.

Digger pulls back, cupping my face. "We're not gonna make it home." Then kisses me again. "I'm serious."

"Has Captain Boomerang got a boner?" I chuckle, snorting to myself slightly, then frown. That doesn't sound like me, and I certainly don't sound sexy.

He takes a step back with me tumbling to keep up to him as his back slams into the wall, just an inch away from an elongated and expensive looking painting hanging off to our side.

"A permanent one." He says passively, like he really did mean it. "I've been watchin' ya ass across that floor. My ass." He grabs it in a huge paw, pulling me tighter to his hips. "People lookin' at ya. Drivin' me wild, like." Leaning closer, his breath licks at my face. " _I actually bloody liked it_. _Do you know why_?" I shake my head, my eyes like headlights at this point and my feet tip toeing off the floor. I actually do like him talking like this, it makes a woman feel invigorated in a messed up kind of way – though I'll never admit it.

" _Because they were never gonna get it, and I am_." He leaves his head in the crook of my neck and I try to peer at his expression, but he pushes my hair out of the way and assaults my neck, leading back up my jaw and to my lips. The skin is between his teeth and he applies pressure, then suddenly licking from the top of my mouth as I gasp.

Again, it's _always_ like he wants to eat me.

Everyone else in the room is forgotten. But I highly doubt anyone is particularly paying any attention. I've noticed a few couples in the corner of to the sides completely lost within each other. We are no different. - Well apart from he's literally devouring my flesh.

" _Oh shit_." Whether it be his words, or the mere thought, my heads beginning to cloud and I can't seem to push my body any closer to him.

"Ya look a lil' flush." Digger grabs tightly on my side, just under my breasts greedily. I suddenly want his hands on me, everywhere, against my _bare_ skin.

"Stop teasing me and do something about it then!"

There's a flicker in Digger's eye that I can't quite grasp at that moment. "Alright sparky." He gives me a quick tug. "If that's how ya wanna play it. We can." Shit what have I done.

He's taking me towards the bar hurriedly, then stops just short, turning quickly and dragging me with him. It feels naughty to be opening a door right next to the bar that says 'employees only'. But he doesn't stop here. There's a white door at the other end, smaller than normal with a step up to it and he pulls me inside.

A dusty light flicks on from the other side of the room, and it's much colder, causing a small shiver. The damp smell is slightly off putting, but it would be in a place like this. We are just in a small room with barrels of beer and a crooked little table.

Digger doesn't waste time and hoists me up on his hips, kissing me quickly as he shrugs off his trench and using the wall to hold me up. "I got one rule. And that is, 'We don't stop fucking, even if someone walks in.'" I surprize him by capturing his lips, then I daringly bite him. He's bitten me enough times, and I want to know what it's like to actually to do it.

He pulls back and hisses. " _Fuck_."

"Too hard?"

"No. I fuckin' loved it." He yanks my top over my head in one swift movement. "Can ya start wearin' skirts?" He pulls off my trainers while I'm still in his arms, then sets me down only for a second to undo my jeans and strip them off me, along with my underwear. I'm suddenly feeling very exposed, but also completely buzzed.

It doesn't matter though, he soon throws his jacket off and slips up his vest like he does in my dreams. When his hands reach for his jeans, I stop him. "I want to do it."

Digger bites his cheek and his fingers twitch as they flop back down to his sides. I pull him by a pant loop closer, earning me a satisfying groan of impatience. I undo the button, keeping my eyes on him, then the zip, slowly pulling them down. His erection tents his boxers and I swallow hard, yanking them down before I put too much thought into it. He tries to help me back up to stand but I shrug him off.

Then take him in my mouth.

" _Holy shit_ …" He braces his arms above me on the wall. Good. He wasn't expecting that.

I go slowly though, he's quite the mouthful. Every now and again he would push his hips forward, the natural urge taking over and it was all too much for me. I know he's holding back though.

"Eunacorn. Darl'. I love it like this, but if ya don't stop, I'll be gushin' ya mouth."

I don't stop though, watching him writher in lustful pain. I run my hand up his thighs, squeezing the backs of them, giggling.

Digger snaps. "Ya fuckin' bad girl." Hoisting me back to my feet, he spins me and forces me to put my hands on the wall, my arms straight and my back bent slightly. For a minute he hums, stroking my hips, over my ass, my inner thighs. He unclips my bra and lets me shrug it off. I'm fully naked now.

Next he tortures my front, my breasts, sinking lower over my stomach, _just_ teasing me. I fidget uncontrollably. I'm the musical instrument, and he's playing me. I rub my thighs together to cause some sort of friction, to ease the nuisance throb.

"No, little bird. Use ya hands."

"You want me to…"

"Mmmhmm." His voice reverberating behind me. "Spread ya legs wider, lean forwards." So I do as he says, reaching between me at the same time. "There's a girl."

…I feel his tongue enter me before I can even get there.

I didn't realize he'd even got so low. I moan as he sucks me in, lapping my excitement for him. My stomach clenches up, I think mainly from anticipation, our situation, genuinely just him. He's good at this, a little too good. "Digger-"

"Sorry, doll. Ya really thought I'd let ya fuck yaself and not me?" I hear him standing. Then the tip smoothing up and down my entrance, just before he rams himself inside me.

I fall forwards but he catches me, cupping my breast as he slides in and out. But this position is obviously not what he wants because there's a growl and I'm spun towards him, lifted off the ground. He stumbles for a minute till he finds the crooked table and places me on it perilously. "I like lookin'." Is his only justly argument. Then continues ramming me on top of it. His hands are everywhere, suddenly frenzied by what's in front of him.

"Swear at me." Digger pants and I'm suddenly reluctant. "Tell me what I'm fuckin'." I don't. "Eunacorn…"

"You're fucking me." My voice bouncy and intermittent.

"Ya can do better than that."

"You're fucking my pussy." I giggle at how ridiculous I sound. He pulls me closer, running a hand down the valley of my breasts and stomach then using his fingers with his rhythm. My leg bucks and my head falls back. "You feel so good." I say what I'm _actually_ thinking and I watch a curl form on his lip.

"Tell me again." The movements begin to intensify and I can barely hold myself steady. I probably couldn't if it not for his hands.

"You feel amazing, _Captain Boomerang_."

"Ya know better, lil' bird." He's relentless now, utterly pounding into me. I'm going to be sore for weeks.

But it doesn't matter. I feel myself tightening, trying to grip uselessly at his shoulders. He leans forwards so I can hold onto him, my nails digging into his flesh and most likely drawing blood. I don't have to pre-warn, because when I orgasm, his name spills from my mouth, over and over. He follows after me, slow but hard thrusts as he does and swearing heatedly, hands pawing at my skin.

Digger steadies himself on each side of my legs, panting while I flop a little. Looking down he scoffs. "We made quite the mess."

My heart still beats wildly in my chest, every limb numb bar my arms that still hold his neck. I'm not willing to give up this calming moment just yet. Not when he's unarmed like this and gasping in front of me.

The white door suddenly opens and we both look. Paddy stands there, filling the whole frame and his expression completely frozen. "I'll give ya 5." And the he shuts the door just as hurriedly.

I purse my lips, then can't help but laugh. "Oh shit…" Digger laughs with me. And I'm pretty sure our voices carry into the bar. He taps my leg then pulls out, using his vest to clean up.

"Do ya think he saw us?"

* * *

I'm unlocking my door with a fat grin on my face. I peer over to Digger who's watching my hands turn the key. Suddenly his eyes flick to mine, that hued blue that I'm beginning to become wholly accustomed to.

"Ya got a question for me, titch?"

"No." I try to lie and he looks at me doubtfully. He walks behind me somewhere as we get in and I automatically shrug my jacket from my shoulders. "Okay, yes…" I watch him sling his beanie on the back of the couch, his trench following after. "…what was the red-headed woman saying to you?"

"She always sticks her oar in. She was yapping at me like she usually does."

"Over what?"

He sighs, unzipping his captain jumper till he's standing bare chested in front of me. "Just leave it, bub."

"No, I want to know." He ignores me and I follow him into the bedroom where he kicks off his boots. "Digger…" I cross my arms, trying to sound annoyed. "The more you ignore me the more I'm inclined to ask."

"Do more harm than good, so drop it." He looks at me now, but it's a scowl in warning. His lips purse and his jaw flickers under my sure pissed off grimace. "Fine. Don't say I didn't warn ya and ya get all sensitive on me."

"I am _not_ sensitive."

"Ya have a fanny. A nice one at that." Next his jeans are yanked down. "She said you were too innocent to be with someone like me. That ya not my type."

"Oh right, and she knows best?" I suddenly sound all the working parts of a jealous girlfriend even though we are not probably classed as anything other than residing fuck-buddies at the minute. "Who is she?"

"She's known me for a while. She knows what I'm like and what I like…"

"What does that mean? Can you stop being so cryptic." He walks towards my crossed armed, fully enraged, attitude producing frame and fingers the bottom edge of my jumper with a tug.

"Exactly what it sounds like, darl'. Ya ain't anything I usually go for."

Now I feel offended. "Do you agree with her then? It sounds like you do." I lower my arms and he pulls at my cuffs, preparing to pull it over my head. Even though I'm mad, I still can't bring myself to totally cut myself away from him yet.

"Look at it from a different angle, sweet cheeks. Ya different. She weren't offendin' ya anyway. If anythin' she liked yeh, just decided to dig me out for it. Because ya too…" He stops talking, his thinking face making a very rare appearance. "I guess ya…" Now he gets frustrated. The jumper is thrown over my head and he diverts his eyes.

"Yes?"

"Ya patient. Ya take me with a pinch of salt. Usually I like a bit of skirt but ya an all jean girl. Get me?"

"Why does everyone have a problem with my jeans?" I turn my head away from him. "They're _just_ jeans…" I mumble. This is more significant now with the amount of people who seem to dislike them. They are just straight-legged fitted jeans!

Digger starts laughing. "Ya jut ya lip out when ya get fumed, it's adorable. An I didn't say there was a problem…" He's right. Maybe I should stop being so touchy. He's basically telling me what every girl would want to hear. He's telling me that I've changed him. - Still doesn't dull the nagging feeling though.

I stay quiet and he tilts my head to look at him, which I allow, with a grumpy furrowed brow for good measure.

" _Ya gonna shower with me, bub_?" He purrs again. That certain way. That voice. "I think ya want to."

I give in, my body slouching and face softening into his hand still holding my cheeks. "I just don't like anyone talking about us."

"Us? It's an _us_ now. I thought I weren't yah _boyfriend_." Digger picks me up, like he always does and think he always will. I wrap my arms around his neck and he strolls into the bathroom still gazing up at me. "Ya tired?" I go to shake my head, then change last minute to a nod. "Let the ole Captain sort ya out."

His hands never leave my body, and I barely say another word. I watch all the different expressions his face would make. Particularly my decided favorite. The one where he's caught off guard without any sense of insinuations while in the shower with the water running off his face. Our eyes would meet and he'd give me a knowing grin. - He knew I was watching him.

Even when we eventually lie down contently next to each other with him on his stomach and my fingers hooked over his shoulder like he insists, not a word is shared.

I think Captain Boomerang _is_ my boyfriend. – And I think he knows it.

* * *

I slowly wake to a feeling of fingers webbed into my hair.

It takes a few blinks and I open one eye, humming when I see him relaxingly propped against the head board, phone in hand.

Reality hits me suddenly, sighing as it does so. I know it's Friday and his phone only implicates his mind is already on to what the Joker will have in store for us. I can tell by the way Digger is chewing his cheek and his face is taut.

My hands slip under the pillow and I peer down to his slack legs on top of the cover. He's wearing boxer briefs, so he's already been up. He was naked when we fell asleep.

My movement captures his attention and his fingers still. "Hey." My voice cracks sleepily.

I'm sore today. Even though I won't tell him that. Dangling off that table and rough sex for the last few days would do that to any person. Plus, ultimately having no partner for a while so my body is completely out of practise with the welcome intrusion. I wouldn't change any of it though.

"Hey beautiful." He puts the phone to one side and shuffles low on his back so we are on eye-level. His arm furthest away from me slips behind his head. "Do ya know yah snore?"

It's a complete lie. "I _do not_. Don't be mean to me, I've just woken up." His free hand finds my thigh covered by sheets and he pats it, a look of reluctance flickers when his eyes glance down.

"I'm thinking about tonight too." I reach out, sheepishly skimming the small curls of chest hair openly in front of me. "I want you to know, whatever happens, it's not your fault."

"It is-"

"-Digger. I'm serious. You may have wandered into the café, but I've let you stay here. It's nobody's fault. Not yours, or mine."

Digger suddenly sits up, throwing his legs off the bed and running fingers over his hair. "Yah don't know what his like, darl'. The requests and meetings with ya only get worse. An it will get worse." I sit up and stroke from his neck down to the base of his spine which he leans into, his head falling back as he sighs into it. But he's tense, his whole body fighting physically with his mentally. "He'll do what he can to get to meh. I'm not used to bein' hooked."

Digger turns towards me a little, glancing over his shoulder down at me. "An I won't leave ya. He knows it."

Something crazy and urgent springs over me. "We could run now."

"We wouldn't get far. Not now. There's things I need tah sort first." He growls, standing abruptly. This is a side of him I don't see. One that is despairing and lost. There's no humor or soft look that he usually has in his eyes. In its place sits an uncharacteristic frown and clenched jaw. The usually placid hands when in my company, balled up tightly.

He's angry. Very angry. And it radiates off him.

It's also scary.

"I can't second guess the fuckin' cunt. That's what fucks me. He'll use ya…" He's pacing now and I watch him, pulling the sheets around me tighter. "He'll use ya tah get tah meh. He'll do some fucked shit and make sure that when we ain't with him, that he's in our heads…"

"Digger you're-"

"I wouldn't put anythin' past him. Anythin'. If he wants a jolly he will…" He kicks the post of the bed with bare feet but barely shows any pain. The sound and action has me jumping back and finally he looks up, snapped from his trance. "Lil' bird, I didn't mean-" His expression is close to mortification. "That was not aimed at yeh."

I shake my head in denial that I'm scared.

"I would never."

"I'm just frightened… For us." He's by my side, pulling my arms from the sheets and placing them around his neck as he scoops me onto his lap. "I don't want to think about it now, not until I have to."

"Okay, done."

"I want to forget." I mumble against his shoulder while my arms tighten into a genuine hug he seems to return. I feel so exposed and feeble sometimes when his arms are around me, the complete opposite of him even without any clothes himself. "I want it to just be us and not have any of this… _shit_." I realize I'm crying, sniffing into his shoulder. It was mostly a mix of fear and also loathing. I loathed this feeling, the feeling of the unknown and helplessness.

"Let's not think about it, eh." I nod and he pulls my head back, wiping the tears off my cheeks. I won't meet his eyes, but I can see them wandering around my face. "What can I do, love?" His fingers stroke hair back behind my ear.

I shake my head at him, biting my lip as a thought blossoms in my mind. I wind my fingers in his beard and kiss him. He lets me, but he keeps them closed while still searching my face. I pull back and there's a few seconds when our eyes connect, then I lean into him again, making my intentions known, giving him time to catch on to my plea.

Something is different this time. His usually rough persona is dropped, and instead in its place gentle hands running down my back, no control or dominance on his part as he lifts his body off the mattress and allows me to pull down his boxers.

There's no cocky suggestions or dark glint as I slide down on top of him.

All Digger does it sit there and pushes my hair to one side so he can see my face, pulling his lips between his teeth in some mild mannered restraint while he watches me.

And watches me he does. Not once grabbing at my skin or willing me to change position or pace.

He just tells me. "It's alright, lil' bird." Before everything is a foggy mist with just our gasping breaths for company.

"I got yah."

* * *

I'm feeling kind of guilty. It was the first time he has ever let me take control in that position. But not just that – it was the only idea I knew that would help us forget. We were both upset, angry, distracted. But I knew _that_ one thing would take over our minds long enough to chill the air.

In the back of my mind though, I knew that _that_ just wasn't _sex_.

I'm head over heels for him in such a short space of time. It was hard not to be. He came into my life and tipped the balance, threw the scales off, bent the hands of the clock. He made my life fun. Tested me. Looked after me. Made me laugh.

I was falling in love with him, and I made love to him this morning. - And he allowed it.

I'm suddenly snapped from my thoughts when Digger clicks his fingers in my face. "What's up with ya?" He frowns at me. "Head in the game, girl."

"Sorry." I peer down to my hands while he finishes getting dressed. I've watched him hook enough Boomerang's to the inside of his trench to take out an army, it worries me.

"Be ready by eleven tonight sharpish. I'll come get ya then we'll deal wid business…" Lastly his beanie is slung on his head, but unusually pulled so none of his hair is showing. "If ya don't want to sit on ya own, why don't you ring that feline downstairs? I'm sure she'd be thrilled."

"I don't know."

"I don't want ya up here on ye own."

"I'm a big girl." I finally get the courage to look him in the eye and he's squinting calculatedly at me. "I don't think I'll be decent company."

"That's alright, she'll talk for the both of ya." He winks and heads for the door. Pausing, he stomps over to me, kissing my forehead and knocking my chin.

I fight the urge to grab a hold of him and tell him to stay.

The last thing I see is the edge of his trench coat as the door shuts behind him.

* * *

"…Then she had the cheek to say that I was being unfair. That I was really rude and my telephone manner was appalling! It ended in the huge row and my manager called us into the office. But she knew I was right and the way I handled the situation was-"

I sigh, switching off again from Chloe sitting in front of me. We're in a small restaurant slash diner that's a two-minute walk from the complex. My eyes drop to the coffee I haven't touched and I'm hyper-aware of how dark it is outside. It's like a haunting countdown now.

I also wonder what Digger's doing and where he is. "Euna?" I also hope he's not hurt or getting into overly big trouble. "Hellooooo." Chloe waves her hand in my face.

"Oh. Sorry, just a lot of things on my mind." I try to laugh a little but it's pathetic.

"A problem shared is a problem halved." Chloe smiles at me, her head tilting with her bouncy ponytail.

I can't really tell her about what's actually going on, but I suppose I can lighten my mental load.

"How good are you at swearing to secrecy?"

"I never told Jude her husband flirted with me. She guessed…" She holds her hand up as if swearing under oath. Her open omission only confirms my suspicion of how easily she lets things slip, but luckily we don't know the same people, so my gossip is of no interest to anyone.

"I think I made love to Digger this morning. By accident." I keep my eyes on my cup, swirling my spoon. It sounds so cliché and Chloe chuckles under her breath at me.

"What do you mean by accident? Making love is not by accident, you obviously meant it." Her eyebrows furrow. "What's the difference anyway…"

I shake my head at her stupidity. "It's by accident because it's too soon."

"I know people who take ten years to get married, and some two weeks. Vegas…one night."

"I am not talking about marriage, that's way way _way_ down the line, if ever. I'm saying I think I love him and I don't know if its right… Gah!" I kick my feet up on the booth, running a hand over my pulled back hair. "It's too soon. I know."

"I dunno; stranger things have happened…"

"I don't know how I've even got myself in this position." I'm talking more to myself than her now. She seems to know as she lets me without saying anything. "He's not the love type I don't think. I mean – he says he won't leave me, but at the same time I don't know if he's into the whole 'Love thing'." I quotation mark.

"He's a man. They don't know which ways up apart from when their penis tells them." My eyes widen and I laugh in shock. For once she's actually said something funny.

"I need to stop thinking like this, I'm sure it's just an infatuation and I'm blinded by him staying at mine."

"You're stupid." She says bluntly and I frown at her. "Why would any man stick around this long if he didn't _feel_ _something_."

"Digger's not like usual men anyway, he's _different_. Maybe that's why I'm so confused. He's very-"

"Intense? Domineering? Blunt? Knows what he wants?" Chloe seems really pleased with herself now. She sits more upright whereas I'm slouched.

"Where are you going with this?"

"I'm just saying that if the feelings weren't mutual, you'd know. A guy like him doesn't stick around for just a piece of ass when he could probably get it elsewhere."

"Mmm." I hum, unconvinced but still absorbing her words. I check the time on my phone. It's hitting ten. "I better go. I'm meeting him at eleven." I stand, pausing as I have to pass her for the exit. "We should…do this again another time."

"I'm always around somewhere. Just call me."

"Thanks for listening to me talk crap."

Chloe smiles. "No problem." I'm halfway to the exit when she calls back out for me. "Oh, Euna. If in doubt, just be honest…"

Easier said than done…

* * *

When there is a knock at the door I rush over. Digger stands propped up against the frame, a bruise forming on his right cheek, but he smiles anyway.

"What happened?"

"Yah should see the other guy." He jokes. But he smells sweaty. There's an odour of cigarettes and the arm resting on the frame has red, bloodied knuckles. "We need to go. Here." He pushes an envelope into my hand. I can tell it's a wedge of money by the shape. I slip it into my jacket pocket and he nods at me wryly. "I'm sorry… you have tah do this." But his eyes are cold, they don't see me how he usually does. Like he's switched off a little.

With a sigh, his hand reaches for mine and he pulls me with him.

But when we reach the streets, there is something different about him, the way he carries himself and how he walks a pace ahead of me even though we're holding hands.

The grip is not strong like it is usually and he's staring out ahead of him without saying a word. I'm almost stumbling to keep up, so I stroke him with my thumb. It's enough to cause him to pause and look at me.

"I really am a selfish cunt."

"Don't start this again."

"These hands were wrapped round someone's bloody throat over an hour ago, and now I'm here touchin' you like."

I blush a little. "I like you touching me. I wouldn't want you to not touch me." I scrape my trainer along the floor. "I don't wanna…spend any time away from you, and I don't want you to feel like you can't be with me and I don't want you to feel guilty. It's not just your decision, its mine too. I kinda thought that that was what was wrong with-"

"Eunacorn, yah mumbling."

"Oh." I'm glad he barely heard a word of that. "I think I'm nervous."

His eyes sparkle with amusement. "Come 'ere." He slings his arm over my shoulders. "I'll tell youa story."

"About what?"

"Jesus Christ. I barely get a word in edge ways with yah can I?"

"I'm naturally inquisitive. That's how I got talking to you remember?" Suddenly the weight lifts. This is how it should be, all the time.

…If it weren't for that Motherfucking Joker.

I almost don't want to run away anymore, I want to kill him, get rid of him for good so he can't inflict this on anyone else.

"I used to teach people to throw wooden boomerang's before I got me own."

"You're joking."

"Nope. Then it grew outta fashion and I began using for… _protection_." He smirks a little as he says it. "Been Captain Boomerang ever since." He smiles down at me, his gold tooth glinting. "The end."

"Great story." I scoff.

"I'm full of surprizes."

"Maybe you could teach me?"

"Seeing you with a Boomerang…I think I'd jizz darlin'."

We turn left at the end of the street and I can see the two large buildings appearing that I remember from when Joker drove me here. It causes an involuntary shudder and the nerves begin building again. Digger merely pulls his arm away and holds my hand again firmly. Much like how he usually does. "You ready?" He wiggles me.

"I think."

There's a small door to one side and Digger knocks on it. It's quiet out here, but as soon as it opens it's full of the suits. One of the goons looks us up and down, then motions with a head for us to come inside. As Digger steps in the doorway he's immediately restrained and disarmed, grunting as they do so, but he looks as though he expected as much. " _Easy_ , boy…"

This time, only a hand is on my shoulder and they lead us to the metal steps.

They don't let go of Digger though. Keeping him firmly to them with his hands behind his back. I'm sure though that if he really wanted to, Digger could get free and beat their two ass's.

I only glance at him fleetingly before ascending the steps, following the same path to the large attic room.

It's a strain to see from going light to dark so quickly as we enter and I almost trip over the door frame. Joker's already in here, Harley to his side.

By the quaking man in his underpants in the corner. We don't seem to be the only ones stuck in his firing line.

"There they are! I told ya they'd come! Please… take a seat." He motions to the chairs in front of him. The restraint on my shoulder is gone and I do as he says. Digger is pushed forwards and he glares back at the goons, straightening out his trench threateningly.

I automatically pull out the envelope of cash and push it across the table. He takes it, not bothering to check if it's all there. You'd have to be stupid to try to trick this guy.

"Eunice, Eunice, Eunice." Joker plays on my name. "Eunice _Evans_. I did a little favor for ya. I got the police to drop the statement. You'll be happy to know, aren't you, pretty."

I stare at him blankly, unwilling to give him any satisfaction.

"One charge for theft. Orphaned at sixteen by a gang related incident. Grams dies and leaves ya with nothing. It's all very tragic."

Apart from my eyes lowering the slightest, there is not a movement from me. But Digger does. I can feel him looking at me over his shoulder.

"Good job, roo. Did as we asked, no complications. Ya good at getting' yaself out of tight spots. I suppose you have to be in your line of work. Was it the plaza you and your little _mate_ robbed a few weeks back?"

"We had a jolly…" Is Digger's reply, and he crosses his arms arrogantly, sitting back against his chair.

"See from what I understand, pretty." Joker lights up a cigar, blowing the smoke towards me. "Is that there was an investigation to your parent's deaths, but nothing really came out of it. That right?"

"Yes." I twiddle my fingers under the table out of sight. I keep myself prompt and clipped in my answer. "It was quickly swept under the table."

"Shiiiieeettt." Joker drawls out. "How can you control yaself round her with that voice of hers. I'd have to smother it. It's too sweet. Ya tasty aren't you. Do you enjoy her?" He's not looking at me, he's talking to Digger, completely off subject now. "Does she taste as good as she sounds?" Harley's giggling, but we don't say anything.

"Okay, so I'm getting the silent treatment out of you two, I'll just get straight to the point then… I can help find out what happened to your rents."

It's a deal with the devil, even if my ears do prick. "It's a long time dead." I state matter-of-factly. "I've accepted it, and I've moved on with my life. But thanks"

I don't want to be thinking about my parents right now, not while I'm here.

Joker's face contorts wickedly, seemingly like he's getting pissed off with me. "I ain't finished with either of ya. And for ya smart mouth, I got a job for you to do next weekend, missy."

So he ultimately wanted to strike a deal to snare me to do his dirty work, not seek out the truth behind what happened to them. There's one thing I'm beginning to learn about Joker – he always liked to one up. It must really shrivel his prune that I'm fairly uninteresting and there is no other prized possession in my life bar Digger.

"That's not the deal." Digger expresses angrily, now leaning on the table towards him.

"Deals changed. What ya going to do about it? Don't tempt me to do something, it will only sit on your head." He sneers. "I could let slip the whereabouts of the famous Plaza robbery suspects. Would be great to see you hauled in. Then what would she do? Work in another bar? Work for me? Be _my_ new pet?"

"It's fine. I'll do it." I snap between the two of them butting heads.

"Fuckin' bollocks…" Digger spits next to me, slouching back into his seat.

"Oh she really likes you. Really, really…" Joker leans across from me licking his lips. Suddenly he pushes himself away. "I got stuff to do. I'll forward you the plan during the week. Until then…" He stands, Harley following quickly after him. He gets to a door which is opened from the other side by one of his goons. "…I've got my eye on you… See them out." He snaps

I know this is only going to make Digger a hundred times worse.

* * *

And I was right.

He takes us to Paddy's bar, filling himself with beer and I've only taken a sip of my own. We have barely spoken.

"I'm going home." I grab my jacket placing it over my arm. "I don't want to be here right now." The cheery music I remember is doing nothing for me tonight.

"One for the road!" Digger calls behind the bar. Another beer is placed in front of him and he downs it in one. He can drink, that's for sure. But he's not drunk when he turns to me. He never seems to be. "What's the rush?"

"I don't know, maybe the fact you've been completely blanking me for the rest of the night?"

"I'm not blanking yeh. I'm enjoyin' the silent company." He smiles.

"Whatever…" I turn from him, pushing through bodies, managing to make it up the stairs and a quick goodbye to the doorman that's now overly friendly. I'm putting my jacket on when he gets to me half-way down the street.

"Bird, nah. I'm just a lil' fumed right now."

I push his arm off me that's trying to pull me to him. "You robbed the Plaza! The biggest mall in town! I guess I don't have to wonder what you do anymore. _I_ should be 'fumed'." I quotation mark, making an awful attempt at his accent that has him stifling laughter at me. "I could get done for harbouring you!" I continue walking, shaking my head incredulously. "And you ignore me for simply having no choice in a situation. He wouldn't have stopped till I said yes."

"You knew I was a crook, don't stir me shit."

"And the two security guards? With families? Their faces where on TV for over a week after."

"Like I said, innocents don't get in me way. They were warned. They were also armed. It was me or them, sugar." I try to walk faster but it would be impossible to get away from him, he's much taller than I am. So I growl at him instead.

I'm not looking where I'm going, turning past a corner shop way too caught in my own annoyance. Digger yanks me back by my jacket, just as a kid trips over my feet.

"Woah there lil' fella." Digger crouches low, picking the scruffy kid up and rubs at his knees. The child's eyes are frantic, but he doesn't run.

Further down the street someone's yelling. By the looks of the whole situation, he's stolen someone's takeaway. - And now that takeaway is all over the sidewalk.

There's a hitch in his breath and his head swivels, thinking he's in deep trouble. So I crouch down next to Digger. "Hey. What are you doing out at this time?" I immediately want to wipe the dirt off his face, a licky-spitty hand one, but it's totally inappropriate.

"I got hungry…" He mumbles, then looks down at his stolen goods in defeat.

"Where's your parents?" I say, and Digger looks at me now, smiling, almost bashfully at my motherly cooing. I nudge him off balance slightly.

"They're at home." The brown haired child shrugs at us. "…They didn't make dinner." My heart literally skips a beat in my chest at his little voice.

"We'll get ya summit to eat. C'mon."

* * *

" _The whippersnapper can eat that's for sure_ …" Digger whispers.

He's sitting with me on my side of the booth with the kid in front of us, watching in awe at someone so small, but so able to shove _so much_ in his mouth at the same time.

We've managed to find probably the only late night diner open at this ungodly hour. But it's still got a few people in it and loads more ordering up front. It is the end of Friday night now I suppose, and the beginning of early hours Saturday morning.

My fingers are laced on the table, Diggers leant really forward on his elbows. The child doesn't even look up.

"You want anything else?" He shakes a 'No' at me. I lean my head slowly on Digger's broad shoulder, yawning. It's been a long haul-ass day and my eyes close all on their own. I can feel Digger's breath on my hair as he most likely turns to me. I'm not mad at him anymore, it's almost impossible to stay mad at this guy.

" _We can work it out, we can work it out_." His voice is husky and he's singing so lightly into my hair I begin to smile. One of his fingers is flicking my hand. " _Life is very short…"_

"Is that your way of a half-assed attempted apology?"

Keeping his voice low, I can imagine him in my head smirking. "Nah, I don't apologize in words…"

"I wish you were my parents…" The little voice has my eyes snapping open. He's finished the food and I wonder how long he's been sitting there. "…You're nice."

"Not too bad yaself, mate. We'll walk ya back, kid. What's ya name?"

"Owen." His blues eyes flick between the two of us

"Pretty cool name, buddy." Digger stands from the booth, holding his hand out to him which he takes. "I can feel those muscles growin' already…damn, yeh crushin' me hand…" The little kid tries not to laugh, keeping his lip tight over his teeth.

"You speak funny."

"Beatin' me up… insultin' me…" Their voices trail off.

The two walk in front of me and I tilt my head at the uncommonly fatherly-like traits Digger secretly holds. I think he'd be a good parent. - Or it's just my infatuated womanly brain doing the talking for me.

Owen.

That's such a lovely name...

* * *

A/N

Thanks for all your great messages! Very much appreciated.

This chapter was meant for the weekend. But I decided it would be a really good idea to go out and I woke up saying 'I'm never drinking again' So you can imagine.

Then, I suffered a bit of writer's blockage!

I hope you enjoy this.


	9. Chapter 9

**;)**

* * *

We dropped the kid off just around the corner from his house. He refused to have us come any closer and we were sworn to secrecy not to tell his parents. We pinky promised.

It felt wrong to watch him walk down the street unassisted. But there was nothing we could do. It's not like me and Digger can go to the police and an anonymous tip-off would be on our heads.

Digger said maybe his parents were struggling and we didn't know his story well enough to place judgement. In a cruel way, he was right. Kids would sometimes say things that wouldn't be particularly true, over-exaggerate even.

It still bothered me, and I wake up still thinking of Owen.

I'm alone in bed, covered by sheets that now smell of Digger and whatever cologne or deodorant he uses. To see him you wouldn't think he smelt so delicious, or how sultry his skin actually tasted, or how pleasing his facial hair felt against sensitive parts of your body. More fool any person that dismissed him so quickly.

In a stupid way I panic, throwing the covers off and opening the bedroom door hurriedly. Only to find Digger glued to the TV.

I'm not really scared he's going to leave because he says he never will and I believe him. I'm more scared of now being on my own and I don't know whether that is a dangerous thing or not yet. But I can admit that I don't want him to leave and if he asked me I would say the same without hesitation.

"G'day, darl'." There's a mug of, what I assume is coffee. He takes a huge swig of it, patting the seat next to him and looking up and down my shorts and vest.

As soon as I sit, he scoops one leg hooked over his thigh and sits back. He really is a fascinating creature. "You're sneaky." Is my first words to him and he gives me a side-ways look. "I mean; I never hear you get out of bed."

"It's a skill. One yeh ain't good at." He winks, probably hinting to our shower incident. "I'm glad yeh up, I wanted to talk to ya." He leans forwards, putting the cup down and now yanking my other leg up. "Me and yeh are gonna join the gym."

I swallow thickly, I've never been to a gym in my life. I've never really been able to afford it. "What? _Now_? Right now?"

"Today. I've been slackin'. What better way to see ya little face all rosy then when yeh working up a sweat."

"It's not a good idea." I'm highly uncoordinated.

Leaning in he whispers " _Tough_. Yah doin' it. If I am, you bloody well are." There's no place for argument as he starts tickling my feet till I can barely breathe, pinning me down when I try and crawl off the couch.

* * *

And that's how I find myself at the pleasantly, and also intelligently named. 'Gotham Gym'. I'm strolling on an ascent while Digger jogs next to me on the treadmills. I really don't like it; I hate working out.

But I don't mind watching him though…

Through his exert, I can see flush veins and muscle, his face is also a tinge of red. The vest he's wearing is baggy around the arms and sometimes I would get a peek at what was underneath. I mentally remind myself to scour it further at some point.

He looks too massive to be on these small treadmills and he most certainly doesn't look like he needs it.

"Stop…lookin'…at me." He pants out. I didn't even know he'd seen me. "Yah like what yeh see?" He taps the red button and it eventually slows to a stop, so I do the same.

"Yes, _actually_." I decide to play him at his own game because for the past hour I've been bored shitless. "There's a lot of sweaty, muscly men in here…" I try to keep myself seeming disinterested and try not to laugh. "It's really… great."

"Ye eyeing people up, eh. We can doa threey with one of the mateys here of your choice if ya want." We step off and his hands are already on my hips, on my sweaty stomach, pulling me closer. His eyes seem darker this close up and the playful grin he has is tranquilizing. He twists my hips from side to side, bouncily peering down at me. "He gets the rear though."

My mouth drops. "That's disgusting."

"Nah, I'm just fuckin' with ya. I'd rip his jaw off." He says with no general emotion, so I know he really means it. "Yah not thinkin' that, _are ya_?" His eyebrow rises slightly. I figure he must be a little uncertain and its kind of cute.

"God, hell no." I laugh. "I was actually thinking about how much I hate working out, and about when we can finally leave." He slings his arm over me. We are both sweaty so neither of us care. "I was also thinking about how I _actually_ _do_ want to learn how to throw your boomerang's…" My voice is teasing. I'll keep it to myself that I wasn't thinking it. I just wanted to know what his reaction would be.

"Yah really wanna?"

"Yes." I look at him. "Not sharp ones though."

"I still got me old Betty."

"Betty?"

"The wooden one. But that won't be _only_ wood around." He implies. We are just passing the bikes when a man next to us obviously hears him because his head snaps up to us, peering between the two of us. "What ya lookin' at?"

"Digger!" I glare at his rudeness. It's his own fault for using such language and innuendoes so openly in public. I surprize myself though, I'm beginning to get used to it.

"I'm only jokin' bud. Touch - an I'll snap yah fingers…"

Oh the testosterone is just resonating off of him.

* * *

"No, not like that ya carp. Like this!" I ignore that fact he's called me a fish and watch as he takes the Boomerang, showing me the official way to throw it. It comes back to him effortlessly, mine just seem to plummet to the ground.

For once it's a bright afternoon. - Unexpected of course as we wore jumpers. But still, can't complain.

We took the chance to head to the nearest park and it seems everybody else has had the same idea.

Surrounded by a large fence and trees, it was easy to forget the location the park is situated in. It's completely central of Gotham, encircling a man-made lake. I don't really come here very often. It's usually full with jogger's, kids and cyclists that whizz up and down the paths.

Considering I hate working out I avoided it like the plague. That, and I felt guilty watching them.

"Okay, I think I got it." I lie, taking the same pose as him and closing one eye with my tongue hanging out. I throw it and it lands a few feet in front of me. "Or not."

" _Bird_ …" He drawls, his patience wearing thin with me. "I got more luck showin' a kangaroo."

"Hey!" He was probably right though. I sit down on the grass, on top of my jacket and watch him throw a few more times till he sits next to me, hugging his knees. – Or trying to, if his muscles would let him.

"I guess I weren't born for the boomerang." Especially not after seeing him throw.

"No. But ya good at ridin' one."

"Please…just stop." I lie back, looking up at the bizarrely blue sky. Digger shifts till he's on his elbows next to me. He's gazing out at the people around him. Before I would've said he was completely laid-back, but now I know him more, there's always a sense of alertness when in public, although, almost completely undetectable to the untrained eye. "Why do you look like someone is about to creep up on us?"

"Habits die hard." He picks at grass before rolling on his front. "An I'm a fool. A perfectly defined woman next to meh an my shits on me own curiosity." Pulling back the shoulder of my jumper, he bites me lightly. "Yah got a body like the world map, _Eunacorn_ …" I frown at him, thinking maybe he was talking about my patchy complexion. "Skin as white as the beaches of Mexico…" His fingertips trail of my shoulder. As my breath hitches he catches my gaze. "…Eyes like I'm lost in woodland…" At the same time his hand runs over my breast and he smiles. "…Then we got the Himalayas."

I can't help but laugh. "You were doing so well."

"Hey…I weren't finished! I had a grand finale"

"Oh really? Because your cheese is coming from France."

His smile turns wicked. "Yeh into this?" He purrs. "We could, ah, play this game at home, if ya want..." He looks down towards his chest dramatically. "Shit, think I've made a damn hole."

"Digger!"

He chuckles to himself. "I'm fuckin' diggin'!"

Pulling my head up to glare at him, over his shoulder I spot a very familiar young boy. "Wait… is that…"

Digger throws a quick look. "Bloody Christ. It's the nipper."

Owen walks with a young looking mom with a pram through the park. He has his head down and the mother is grimacing towards him, the words too far away for us to hear. Unexpectedly she yanks his arm towards her and his eyes shoot up to her face. I can't watch anymore; I'm already stumbling up to my feet.

"Eunacorn…" Digger grabs my arm, pulling me back. "Stop. If you go over she'll wonder how you know him, might cause more harm than good."

"But…"

"It ain't your place, love. Not mine either."

"But look!" I motion my hand to Owen with his head back down, basically being pulled beside the pushchair by the top of his arm.

"I see him. I see a restrainin' order as well…" He turns me to look at him but I purposefully keep my head to one side. "Look at me." I'm annoyed and also feeling helpless, and for the fact Digger is actually right… again. It forces me to slowly meet his eye rather reluctantly. "Take his situation, store it in your bubble an learn from it. I agree with ya, I do, bird. I'm not against ya in the slightest. But I'm a prick and it makes it easier."

"What does that mean?"

"You're all womanly an shit..." He smirks, prodding me in the chest. "An that's why ya can't throw a boomerang."

I know he's only trying to coax my attention onto something else. – And it works. I grab Betty out of his inside pocket, lurch forwards, and launch her.

My heart flutters when she soars through the sky and I almost jump up and down in delight. Until it comes pelting back towards me. I didn't think about catching it after…

I tuck my chin just in time for it to smack me in the top of the head and knock me off my feet. "Ah shit!"

"Euna!" Digger's eyes are frantic as he searches my face, crouching over me and covering me in his enormous shadow. Realizing I'm not really hurt, a wheezy chuckle launches into a full roar of laughter. "Ye…" He can't even talk, hacking on enjoyment and my cheeks ignite in front of him.

"It's not funny…"

A hand goes to his chest and he tries to keep a straight face, sucking in his lips…for a second. And he's laughing again. "Fuc…by…christ…yeh coulda taken an eye out." It seems to make it that much _more_ funnier for him and I push him off balance with a nudging kick to his bent knees. He's unable to stop himself falling on his ass and he rubs at his eyes, squeezing at the bridge of his nose trying to calm himself. "Ya gonna kill me one of these days, straight cardiac." And he's off again.

"Why didn't you catch it?" I whine, rubbing the now forming bump within my hair. That fucking hurt and I'm lucky it didn't break the skin.

"I thought yeh had it…" He coughs. "Yah just stood there like a…" He's wheezing again. "Like a fuckin' penguin!"

"Okay that's enough. I'm not being called the world map and the entire animal kingdom in one day…Thank you…" I grab my jacket off the floor and shrug my arms into it, walking quickly away.

It's the clattering of metal boomerangs in his jacket that alert me he's jogging up to me. "Eunacorn, _baby_ , forgive meh… If I'd have recorded it, you'd be laughin' too" His big paw yanks my shoulder back but I shrug him off. "Look, I'm sorry… Don't sass."

"Too-" He stops dead in front of me with his back to me as he crouches low. My pace collides into him and he lifts me from under my knees and onto his back. "Digger!" I try to protest but he spins once and I throw my arms around his neck, my chin on his shoulder, trying not to fall. I snort-laugh as per usual.

"Ah, she's comin' back! Let me hear ya, doll." He squeezes my thighs and it's a painful but tickling sensation that causes me to wriggle and yelp. "I love it when yeh sass me. Sass me tonight. Go on. I dare yah."

"Tonight…as if… Not after today."

"I'll buy ye ice-cream. Rainbow sprinkles. Extra sauce. The lot. Just sass me." He peers over his shoulder, trying to see me but he can't. He does look hopeful though.

" _Well_ … _I dunno_ …I don't even know what sassing you tonight means…"

"Throw meh down, call meah cunt and fuck us both into oblivion…"

I'm speechless. – For a second. Ice-cream _does_ sound pretty tempting. "Hmmm, I want chocolate and caramel sauce together."

"Darl', yeh dream it, it's yours."

* * *

Okay. Now I'm totally out of my depth. We sit opposite each other with two humongous bowls of ice-cream.

Digger chose the disgusting strawberry sauce and multi-colored sprinkles. I went full on calorie munching with triple chocolate and caramel that defied the gym in every way possible. It was my threatening message for the gym to not screw around with me. We weren't friends, but me and ice-cream were a team.

They are displayed beautifully, the specialty of this particular diner with a prize winning wafer. I stare down greedily, but hesitate with my spoon in hand.

Digger's watching me intently, a ghostly smirk on one side of his mouth. His dessert isn't touched, his spoon balanced in his hand on the side of the glass bowl. He nods fractionally at me to continue when I catch his eye.

I feel slightly under pressure, or like this is some kind of a trick. My ice-creams melting though, so I dip my spoon in. The sugar rush is instant the minute it hits the tip of my tongue and I feel my stomach twist in pleasure, humming to myself. So I take another, savouring every taste. There's some sort of brownie in the middle and I'm fishing it out when I suddenly remember Digger is with me.

His dessert has melted and he's biting the side of his index finger. But his eyes are on me.

"Youah…enjoyin' that, luv?"

I lick my lip, swiftly feeling bashful, just as his knees nudge me under the table. The look he gives me after is incredibly flirty and suddenly the natural ability to swallow disappears.

"You didn't eat yours?"

"I suddenly got hungry for summit else…" He leans forwards on his elbows, briefly his eyes drift to my lip while he bites his own. Breaking this intense stare down, Digger leans back, looking up and over my shoulder. In curiosity I follow him to a guy walking passed with two black eyes and a little worse for wear.

They nod at each other in passing.

"Who's that?" I'm still watching him out the door but Digger's unbothered.

"I busted his nose on the last job a' Joker's." He shrugs. "Eat up…"

* * *

At least he allows me to unlock the door like a normal human being before shoving me inside and up against the wall.

"Now I want me sassing." Digger tells me, pulling my jacket off and instantly zoning in to my neck. I tilt my head eagerly giving him access, but I'm totally unsure of myself about what he expects.

So when he gets handsy and a little forceful with the button of my jeans - I slap him. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry. I thought-"

He kisses my mouth hungrily, knocking our teeth together and unrelenting till I can barely breathe. "Yah clothes. Take em off." He pants, leaning his forehead on mine for a brief moment. My slap has completely turned him animalistic.

I feel the loss of heat when he pulls away, leading me into the bedroom where he flops backwards onto the bed, watching me intently. Both his legs hang either side of the corner of the bed and flicks a hand at me encouragingly.

"Maybe we should-"

"Clothes. Off."

"What? Here?" I say to the few steps between us and also twiddling my fingers a little nervously.

"No, in the fuckin' loo. Yes here." Nodding, I lift the bottom of my jumper over my head, throwing it to one side. Next I undo my jeans, trying not to look at him. But I hear him shrugging off his trench and kicking his boots off. "Let me see them eyes, little bird." On his voice I automatically glance up as I slide my jeans down. Standing in just my underwear he pats his thigh. "Come warm yaself up."

I stop at the edge and he grabs at my hip, tumbling me on top of him. My heart automatically races but I can feel myself tense so I know he feels it too.

"Ya scared?" He smirks.

"I'm not scared. You're just…more confident than I am." 'Sass me' Still plays heavily on my mind.

"Nah, that's not it, is it… Do ya know what I've noticed…" I shake my head. He pulls my arms till they are around his neck and he falls back, pulling me with him till our faces are only breaths apart. "Yah never touch me unless I tell yah." Next he grazes his lips on mine briefly. "I want it to stop. Yah fuckin' kill me when ye don't."

I try to laugh it off, an attempt that's pathetic. "I… touch you, sometimes."

"No, love. You touch me when yah have ta."

I suddenly remember Chloe telling me I was cold and frigid. Maybe she was right and that's what he thought too. It must be written on my face because he grabs my cheeks, forcing me to look down at him.

"I'm right here, tellin' ye to touch me, darl'." I still don't move. So in a quiet voice, he pushes my fly-away hairs back near my ear. "I'm not goin' anywhere."

"Will you…" I stammer. "Can you…" Digger patiently waits. "…Even if it's not." I shake my head. I'm not making sense to myself and I'm getting frustrated.

I want to say that I want to make love, not pretend. That I want him to be gentle with me like he is in the day – Not that he hurts me any way shape or form. But its how I preferred sex. I wanted it to mean something to him as it stupidly did to me.

"I'm not a mind reader." His hands stroke down my back but he's smiling to lighten his words, a flash of amusement behind his eyes as I'm messing up.

Next, he rolls me off and he hovers above me, fitting his hips between the apex of my thighs. Tilting my chin, he kisses me slowly, stroking the skin of my neck. I feel my toes begging to curl and my stomach fluttering as our tongues meet. I unzip his jacket, helping him shrug it off then lift the vest over his head. The bare skin against mine is extremely satisfying.

I try to lift myself up to get an arm behind me to my bra strap, but I can't reach so he helps me. This time he doesn't devour my body within a look, just flicks up to my eyes and holds them, floundering me in his own personal ocean.

Something is silently exchanged and he seems despairing when he kisses me again, his expression is close to aching as he pulls me closer.

I unbuckle his jeans and he briefly sits up to kick them off along with his boxers before he's back again, both of us pulling at my underwear at the same time.

There's one more soft kiss as he enters me, cupping the side of my face when my throat catches. My legs wrap around his waist, my foot running down the back of his thigh and my head falls back, totally lost in the sensation that is him.

It seems Digger can read minds…

* * *

I wake in darkness, throwing a hand out to the pillows next to me that are empty and cold. "Digger?"

There's rustling and my eyes begin to adjust to him dressing. I guess his movements disturbed me subconciously. "Here, doll." He sits on the bed now I'm awake and ties his boots. "I tried not to wake ya but all my shits in 'ere."

"Where are you going?"

"Out…" He looks over his shoulder at me. "Stuff I need to take care of. Go back to sleep." His head flicking towards the pillows.

"But why?"

"I think y'already know, dontcha." Leaning over, he kisses my cheek, running his thumb along my bottom lip groaning to himself. "Just get some rest while I'm out. I'll feel better knowing my girls in bed waitin' for me."

" _I hate this_." I mumble, and he sighs, pulling away from me wordlessly.

Digger doesn't think I notice, but I see him look back from the doorway towards me. Then, throwing his beanie on top of his head with quick yank, he's gone.

* * *

I don't think I really sleep. But if I did it was fitful and consists of weird, wayward, non-reality dreams that don't make sense. I actually think it was me overthinking.

The bedroom door shudders as if the front door has opened, then it swings open with Digger standing there. He hasn't been back all night.

Digger's smile doesn't reach his eyes, but his hand flies up with letters in them. "I got ya post." Before handing me them.

He's undressing while I begin opening. Most of them advertising or reminders. The last one though is different, fancily clad hand writing which is framed. Digger crawls into the space next to me sighing contently.

 _George Harkness & Eunice Evans._

 _You are cordially invited to the grand opening of the Valentina Belmont Hotel._

 _Black tie. Masquerade Ball._

 _Saturday Oct. 22, 7PM till late._

Underneath is scruffier looking writing. 'I do hope to see you there. Mr. J.'

"Digger…" He grunts next to me, obviously trying to sleep, so I hit his arm. He still doesn't move so I begin shaking him violently.

"Whawhatwhat…"

"Who the hell is _George Harkness_?" I say the name rather spitefully and condescending.

"Give it 'ere." He yanks the paper from my hand, skimming over it. His contented sigh turns into a groan of dissatisfaction. "It's me real name, luv. I don't use it."

"You didn't tell me?"

"Like I said, I don't use it." Then he's lying his head back down, obviously trying to ignore me or finish this conversation.

"You're not bothered? In the slightest?" The back of his head he's presented me with boils my shit.

"Not really, no."

"Why didn't you tell me? In fact…" I pull the pillow out from under his head throwing it across the room.

"Love!"

"…Why are you not bothered at all we've been personally invited by the Joker himself and that you never told me your real name… what else are you lying about?"

That makes him prop himself up to look at me. "I haven't _lied_. I'm known as Digger alright? An Joker is doin' it to fuck with us, like Joker does, like yeh should _fuckin'_ know!" His voice is loud and biting in my ears. "An if ya really hav' to fuckin' know…I don't use my real name cause-" I hold a hand up to him shouting at me, swinging my legs out of the bed and storming out into the living area. He's behind me in second, making me jump away from him till I hit the counter where I'm boxed in, leaning towards me to make me face him. " _That_ name for _that_ person isn't meh." Digger moves his head with my eyes when I try to not look at him. "No. Yah look at meh. Call meh a liar, yah look at meh when yeh accusin'." He laughs sadistically to himself. "Joker got what he bloody wanted, hey…"

Now I feel bad I even said it. In half a way I had a right to be pissed off, he never told me his real name, just a nickname. But then again, I've called him a liar in the process. The best reply I can come up with is: "You should've told me."

"When? It's summit I don't think about. I'm Digger. Not some ass-cunt George Harkness. So tell me when I was supposed tah tell yeh?"

"Before…" I mumble, looking anywhere but him.

"Before what? Before yeh invited me in. Before yah called me Captain. Before _what_ Euna?" Digger's use of my real name only enhances his anger.

"Before…" _Before I fell in love with you_. "…when we met."

Surprize and disdain is scribbled across his face, like he was expecting something else. He pushes away from me, rubbing a hand over his shoulder then back of his neck, biting the inside of his cheek. "Bollocks." He leaves me with, stomping to the bedroom and shutting the door.

Suddenly the room is eerily quiet. I stand here for a few more seconds, then realize I'm completely butt naked…

* * *

Digger also have clothes in one of those boxes. – No that I was peeking. They were folded on top as if he'd been looking for something. I found one of his white vests. It barely covers me, showing a lot of cleavage and side boob, but the length is almost to my knees giving me a little dignity.

I dared not going back into the bedroom and disturbing him. I'm a coward like that. Impulsive with words and really next to nothing backbone to be back myself up.

I've had enough time to think over it all to the point I'm not even angry. There was a reason he didn't tell me his full name and I know Digger well enough to know that he only didn't tell me to spare any pain.

However, I don't expect him to come out of the bedroom fully dressed, beanie hat and all and looking like he just showered. I peer up sheepishly when he stops by the small counters of the kitchen for a moment, hoping he'll say something, anything.

For a minute I think he will as his eyes drop down me and up. Instead, he just sighs and walks to the front door.

"Wait!" I watch him pause with his hand on the handle. "Where are you going?"

"I'll be back." His voice low and I don't bother stopping him.

* * *

It's almost dark and I'm at the point of throwing my jacket on and looking for him. Half of me also contemplates whether he's coming back at all… But his stash is still here.

I end up hoovering to try and distract myself, it only seems the white noise makes me think more and I can feel myself welling up. I hate this gloomy, hovering, argumentative feeling. Me and Digger never argue. We bicker but we don't argue. And the honest truth is that it really wasn't important.

His name. – His choice.

Joker. – No choice.

A heavy hand lands on my shoulder and I yelp loudly, hopping on my two feet.

Digger catches the hoover in one hand while the other stays behind his back. His eyes jot down to his boomerang shirt I'm wearing and a ghostly smirk plays on his lips. "Yah missed meh a bit, eh?" I don't think, I wrap my arms around his neck and he hoists me up with his one arm. The relief of his voice and his eyes warmly drinking me in tell me he is feeling exactly the same.

I lean back, giving him a curious look when his other doesn't come up to hold me. "I shouldn't of yelled at yeh… Yeh better appreciate this. I've been walkin' round like a right fuckin' dick all afternoon."

Digger pulls out a bouquet of flowers out from behind his back. It's the first time any guy has given me flowers, especially red roses. "I'm sorry for bein' the cunt I am." He chuckles. "I wrote that on the card tah. Well, I made the girl in the shop write it, was golden…"

I just smile at him. If anything, I see him a little nervous showing me those flowers, he's almost rambling himself to distraction. "Me too." I grip his face, kissing him heatedly and he stumbles for a second, lobbing the flowers on the couch.

" _Eunacorn_ …"

"Shhh." We're still kissing and he begins trying to kick his boots off, almost falling in the process.

"I didn't tell yah cause…" I eat his words. "…I left it in the past. It's best forgotten."

"I didn't mean to call you a liar…" He kicks the bedroom door open, one hand trying to unbutton his shirt I'm wearing while our lips connect again. "I'm just…" The shirt flutters to the floor and I shiver in anticipation.

"A fuckin' undercover bluey…" He finishes, laying me down, pulling at his own clothes.

"I've been on my own for a while now, I'm too ... recluse." I watch as he leans over me, trailing across all the skin laid bare to him with his mouth, nipping and soothing at the same time.

"I get it, darl'… trust don't come easy, it's earnt…" My nipple is in his mouth, his tongue swirling and I can barely think. "Yah caught me at a bad time though didn't yah…no sleep, throwin' my pillow an shit…" He trails down my stomach and I run my fingers through his hair, almost forcefully pushing him lower.

"Your always unboth uh, uh , ered…" He licks my clit in timely fashion.

Now he looks up, his pupils blown, breathing heavy and dusting my skin. I get goose bumps when he locks onto my eyes. "Yeh do the shit I do an done, - nothin' can stop yah." Then his fingertips swirl my folds and he delves a digit agilely inside of me. "An that Joker won't either."

"You sure?"

His fingers still, and he moves up the bed to me, so I'm on my side, never withdrawing as he kisses me again. "I promise." They coil inside me and the beginnings of pure ecstasy feather inside my stomach, enriching appreciative moans way beyond my control.

"I can't promise that I'm gunna last long though…"

* * *

A/N

So damn, another filler/not filler because I've had to chop this chapter up because it was too long! But had bits that were important! And some just…enjoyable.

Thanks for all the fantastic messages.

I can assure you it's not the last of Owen either.

A lot of bonding here too.

I must now sleep.

Enjoy.


	10. Chapter 10

I wake up feeling overly hot and wedged into Digger's side, wrapped in between the nest of sheets and his leg heavily between mine. We must've been in this position for quite a while as the sensation of pins and needles tingles in my trapped foot. But that's not the only thing tingling. My lips, my skin, even the back of my scalp where he would push his fingers into my hair, pulling me to him, all of it is prickling pleasantly.

There's definitely a tangled knot in the back of my hair, though, and I haven't checked but I'm sure my neck is dotted with loveable marks.

Somehow, I manage to get my leg free before pushing the covers off me and stretch out the ache of all the muscles and bones that seem locked. More than anything though, I'm glad we made up – and make up we did. Thrice, before I was no longer conscious.

I'm not one for being overly timely to take my pill straight away in the mornings but this morning, I make sure I do swallowing it dryly and greedily. I'm all for kids, however, that's something I see years down the line and not now. Especially with Joker hanging over our heads.

Throwing on my robe behind the door, I yawn. It's not a tired yawn but a contented one. My flowers he so kindly bought me sit on the couch, wilting, the casualty of our night together. I still cut the ends, strip the parts that hang lifeless and arrange them in my Grandma's prized vase, placing it directly on the counter. So what if they're dry and crabby and resemble sticks? It's my first bouquet of flowers in a romantic gesture. I'm not throwing them in the trash. I mainly hope they will come back to life. I'm not green-fingered and never have been, so I highly doubt they will. The small floppy petal that plops onto the counter afterwards is a sure sign that they won't.

Next, I tidy away stripped clothes and boots almost laughing at how ridiculously desperate I must've looked last night, not allowing him to talk or even rest the moment his hand touched my shoulder. I guess he's going to be really hungry.

So I make him breakfast in bed.

Digger's favorite food type is breakfast food. He would eat bowls of cereal at any point in the day, snack on waffles and drool over any type of biscuit, pancake, or breakfast bars he bought or found. I use the left over waffles, heating them and pouring syrup over the top along with making coffee. Being a waitress most of my life comes in handy when I balance the plates of food and drinks, knocking the door open widely with my foot. Digger's awake, propped against the headboard and smiles that to-die-for grin when he sees me.

"Whatcha done?" he asks, trying to see, grabbing at the coffees before I practically drop everything and placing them on the side table.

I shrug, "Just thought you'd be hungry."

He's grinning as he rumbles out, "Yah not wrong." I can feel him tugging the strings of my robe while my hands are still full. "Would've been a better sight with this thing off." I just laugh, propping myself on the edge next to him, trying to glare but failing miserably. "Maybe a little pinny…"

I decide to ignore him, cutting my waffle and taking a bite. He's watching me with a stupid half-grin on his face. "What?" I'm trying to sound agitated by his intrusive stare, but my eyes betray me, flicking down his bare chest in front of me.

"Last night was pretty _wild_ …" He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "…I wish I'd recorded it. Can still hear yah delightful little whines in me head." He presumes then to shove the biggest mouthful he can into his mouth, still looking pretty smug.

I flush pink. "Can we talk about the weather, or perhaps what's on TV later, or something interesting, then how I dress or sound?"

"How 'bout how yeh taste?" he purrs. I glare successfully this time and he gently slaps my leg. "So, I've been thinkin'…"

"That's dangerous." I quip, smiling when he shoves me a little.

"We go to the gym and then we go out tonight."

"You're not working?" I say, sounding extremely chirpier and hopeful.

He shakes his head, "Nope."

Then I grimace, replying, " _But_ , you had to ruin it with the gym… Can't we just like, go for a walk or something?"

"Let's compromise sweetheart – a jog then."

With the plate balanced on my legs, I fall back against the mattress, exaggerating my death.

* * *

I can't breathe. I can't breathe and I have shin splints. I can't breathe and Digger's annoyingly happy and keeping a timely pace in front of me.

To hell with this jogging malarkey. I stop suddenly, bending at the waist and holding my knees in exhaustion, watching as he takes a few more strides before noticing.

"What ya doin'?! C'mon!" He flips a hand up motioning me.

I shake my head, my breathing ragged. "No! Body says stop…" I pant, my face burning and the sweat dripping over every inch of my skin.

With a sigh, he jogs back. The arms of his vest have patches of sweat and a trail forming on his chest and I can see the ringlets of chest hairs just poking up from underneath. His joggers bag loosely down from his waist and he his beloved beanie adorned over his dampening hair. He actually couldn't look any sexier right now while I probably look like a beached jellyfish.

"Euna, c'mon," he attempts to coax me.

"I can't," I whine. "I'm done. You go ahead." I shut my eyes trying to block him out, hoping he will just vanish before me. To my stupid mistake, he only rounds behind me, thrusting his groin into my ass. "Digger!"

"Mine for the taking." Next, his hands latch onto my hips pulling me back against him again.

"Stop!" I screech.

"If ya don't start running I'll take ya here in front of all these lovely people." He means every word, I know. A sharp smack catches my right buttocks.

Looking around, people are glancing at us and if my face weren't already red, it would be now. "Quit it!"

"Start runnin' little bird…" He smacks me again and I try and laugh it off, moving away from him. But this time he gives me a stinger.

"Ow!" I turn, holding my arms up to stop him, grabbing his wrists as he approaches me with a sly smile. We fight for a minute on the spot and then I just suddenly sprint, veering off the pathway and along the grass, laughing and panting as I go. For someone reason, knowing he's chasing me, adrenaline sweeps my body and I get a little scared.

With my voice decibels higher and knowing he's directly behind me, I scream. "Okay you win!" Just before we tumble together and I land flat on my back with him bracing himself above me. I have no doubt I have grass stains on my red shorts and white vest top.

Panting together, but smiling, our breath mixes and I reach up, fisting his vest and gold chain in one hand, pulling him towards my lips. His mouth is colder than mine, but far more forceful. He winds his hands underneath me, pulling me up with incredible strength, the workings of his shoulders shifting underneath my hands till I'm relying on just him to hold me as he stands. The thought of his strength tingles in my stomach.

"Yah useless," he tells me when he pulls back.

"I got scared." I pout. "I don't like being chased."

"Darl', I'd follow yeh anywhere." I blush instantly. "I'd take ya anywhere." He reiterates, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. The look falls just as quickly, replaced with one of thought. "Seriously though, where'd ya wanna go tonight?"

"To the stars!" I shout, trying to grasp at my inner Kate Winslet.

"You're a sad fucker aren't you?" He begins walking with me, as if I weighed nothing and not caring for strange stares.

I snort, "Says you, Boomerang boy." I begin laughing, forgetting every bad thing going on in our backgrounds and just enjoying this small moment of us being together. He's watching my face and I can feel myself on a fine edge, daring to say what I really want to say to him. The heat of him is only spurring me on. "Wait… you've seen Titanic?"

* * *

I don't like makeup, but I put some on anyway, just to prove I've made an effort. I let my hair dry naturally into its normal waves and leave it down sprucing the ends lightly with moose.

Digger however, is patiently waiting for me, already showered and dressed and he looks smart in a navy shirt and jeans. His hair is still relatively short from when he lobbed most of it off before so his curly mane sits neatly in his usual Mohawk.

It's not long till he's pulling me down the streets of Gotham, moaning that I took too long even though he spent most of the afternoon sharpening his Boomerang's. He has four on him tonight. I know because I saw him hook them onto the inside of his jacket before we left.

Next to him, I still feel inferior. He's tall, handsome, the shirt restricting against his chest. I wear a tidy black wrap around dress and my knee-high boots, leaving my legs bare to the elements and he can't stop touching them playfully as we walk. Luckily, it's not cold.

We come to a dimly lit restaurant and I peer up at him when he smiles down at me.

I ask quietly, "Why do I feel like this is our first date?"

"'Cause it is, bird," he replies evenly.

"No strip clubs?" I joke and he pulls me forward. Everything inside is so posh and the tables are filled with mostly couples speaking quietly between each other. The atmosphere is calm and there's soft music just audible in the background. Not something I would have pegged him for.

The waitress greets us by the door but I'm too absorbed by my surroundings to speak. Digger squeezes my hands and we are led towards the back of the restaurant to a neat table for two with a candle glittering in the middle.

I have to say, I'm a little nervous. My manners aren't too formal and I can't remember the last time I was taken to an actual restaurant. Hanging my coat on the back of my chair, I sit across from him, my stomach churning and he couldn't seem any more relaxed if he tried.

I turn my arm downwards though, hiding the prominent 'J' sitting on my forearm. It seems we can't get away from him no matter where we were. He was always there to haunt us some way especially with the ball hanging over our heads on Saturday.

Chewing my lip, my nerves sky rocket until Digger reaches out and entwines my fingers with his.

"Yah gonna tell me what's botherin' ya, or do I have to guess?"

I shake my head saying, "No! No, I'm fine." I don't want to ruin this moment. The waitress steps up to our side and pours red wine into our glasses and I draw my fingers back.

Digger takes a long drink of his, dusting off half the glass with his eyes squinted at me. He licks his lips and leans towards me once more before speaking lowly, "What bothers you; bothers me."

I sigh quietly, asking, "Are we going to the ball?"

"Yes," he states firmly, not breaking eye contact. "Our deal with the prick hasn't changed, Euna. So if that's what's botherin' ya still, we need to wise up." He wasn't talking about the both of us, he was putting it into a kinder way of saying I needed to accept it. "Listen… It's just me and you right now." He laughs throatily. " _Forever_ …"

"How romantic," I say dryly.

"Oi, I'm a real stud when I wanna be." His boot pushes my leg under the table. "But yeh know what I'm also good at?" He leans forward even more, whispering, so I meet him in the middle. "People reading…"

I scoff. "Oh _really_?"

He nods, eyes flickering around behind me. "Yeah. Over there… Mr. and Mrs. Hanky spank…"

I give him a funny look. "Hanky what?"

"They're shy, right… but, they are freaks in the sack…" I follow his gaze to a meek couple eating contently with each other, the girl giving little looks every now and again to her partner, trying to see what he sees.

"How can you possibly know that? You're making this up."

"Over there…" He flicks his head to a woman wiping a man's face, tilting her bosom towards him. "Fetish." He points now to the waitress. "Screwing the boss." As he says it, the man cleaning a glass behind the bar spanks her ass when she passes. I'm actually impressed with the last one, at least.

"Wow, what a useful skill."

" _Eunice Evans_." Now Digger points at me. "Passionate." The smug look on his face is rumbustious.

I immediately retort, "Captain Boomerang… Ambitious." I quirk my brow at him.

"Prudent."

"Observant."

"Ohh, I like this game," he purrs.

The waitress clears her throat. Once again Digger and I have managed to absorb ourselves in each other. God, I love him.

"It's a set menu, a choice between, beef, chicken and lamb this evening. There is also a vegetarian dish." She smiles at me.

"Beef please," I respond.

"Times two," Digger calls. She nods leaving us to our own devices again. "Is this the part where I say ya look beautiful?"

"Usually you say that when you first see your date, but thank you," I reply before finishing my wine and Digger pours us another.

By the time I'm three glasses down, our food arrives, but I'm too giggly to enjoy it. By my fourth, my head is spinning and my laugh is just a complete snort. I'm such a light-weight but Digger doesn't seem to mind. We receive some curious glances from the other tables and the dessert of chocolate cake and cream is eaten far too quickly. I swear that if I eat another thing, I won't be able to walk.

Getting up to leave is the worst. I haven't tested my legs since drinking and I immediately wobble.

"Let's get you home, bub…" Digger walks with me, guiding me with a steady hand on my back. I wonder if he feels the effects of the alcohol or not, but on the walk home my thoughts are wiped as he practically carries me home by my arm because it's not my fault if the pavement is so uneven.

The elevator ride up to my apartment, my vision swirls. I need to lie down immediately and that's what I do as soon as we get in. I don't even bother with the sheets, flopping on top of them fully clothed while Digger begins stripping around me until he's left just in his jeans.

"I need to find a job…" I say loosely, unsure of his reaction. I know he likes taking care of everything so I try not to look at his face as I'm sure it would be one of disagreement. But it's about time we spoke about it. I'm tired of relying on him and I don't want to be completely dependent on him although, that's what he likes.

As I had figured, his response was, "You don't need a job, love. Ya job is here…"

I roll my eyes towards him, "I need to make my own money. For things. I want to buy things…"

"Mhmmm," he hums, probably because I'm slurring greatly and he's trying not to agree.

I remember the ball and blurt, "I need to buy a dress."

"Let's get you outta that one first before we think of buyin' a new one, eh?" He rolls me over, finding the belt that holds my dress closed on my side and fiddles with it, exhaling in frustration because I did the knot super tight on purpose.

"I'm going to buy a dress tomorrow." I announce, propping my chin on my forearms, just waiting until I can feel he's undone it.

He grunts, "Tomorrows not good. I'm out."

"I can go on my own Digger." I laugh. "I'm not completely hopeless. Plus, I might not want you to see my dress. It's a surprise!" I'm flipped onto my back again with him hovering over me as my dress opens in front of him and he hums now for a whole other reason, taking in the lacey black bra I decided to wear for our first 'date'. I feel his hands slip down my legs and he unzips my boots, peeling each one off slowly.

I catch him off guard, sitting up quickly and grabbing his belt. My new found confidence is rising from the spruce of alcohol I'd consumed this evening. I unclip the buckle and slip the brown leather from the hoops. I think I finally understand what sass means when I snap it in front of him playfully with a sly smile and his eyes light up.

" _Eunacorn_ …" He warns me.

I really don't know what's come over me. I think I'm a nymphomaniac. "What?" But he's stunned into silence and he lets me roll him onto the bed and I straddle his hips clumsily. "I think…" I trail my hands down his arms, grabbing his forearms and pulling them in front of me as I slip the belt around his wrists. "…you need to know who is the real boss around here… Who runs this joint…"

His voice surprises me when it's so deep and husky; it sends a shiver up my spine. " _Ohhh yeah_ ," he chuckles. "That you is it?" He hisses when I pull the belt tight, securing his wrists together and tucking the end in till he's fully bound. Digger tests them, pulling against it for a minute then looks up at me. I would like to say in awe. "I'm fuckin' so turned on right now." He exhales sharply. I sheepishly smile at him then tug on his jeans and boxers, yanking them down his legs with his help. I don't hesitate when his erection pops out. I grip him tightly in one hand and slowly stroke him while his head falls back against the mattress in ecstasy.

"I want to hear you say it." I grip him a little harder. His white teeth gleam along with his gold tooth in the off-set light and I can see he's on the verge of laughing. I lean down, biting his lower lip and pulling it with my teeth. His face changes instantly, one of complete, serious lust and knowing he can't touch me, I smirk at him. "Say it, _Captain Boomerang_."

Digger lifts his head up, a fraction away from my lips. "Make me, sweet cheeks." Then kisses me roughly, using his legs to push me forwards against him. Even with his hands still restrained, the fingers reach out onto the soft skin of my stomach.

"Oh, well… you know I could just leave you here… all tied up… Maybe I'll go to sleep…" I murmur flippantly.

He narrows his eyes dangerously. "You bloody won't. You'll ride me now… won't yah?"

" _I dunno_ …" I feign boredom, looking at my nails. He hoops his arms over the back of my neck, pulling me down to him, his knees still up, pushing me forwards, and I'm trapped.

Shit.

"Take yah pretty little knickers off before I yank em off with my teeth and then sit the fuck on me face."

"Not until you say it… _once_. Otherwise…" I slap his cheek gently, pushing my fingers through his beard. "I'm leaving you high and dry, buddy." I kiss his mouth, working my way to his neck and he groans above me. Trailing my tongue along his skin, I go lower, just stopping exactly where he wants me to go. "Too bad…"

"Okay, you're the boss!"

I giggle. "You're so predictable."

With his eyes trailing across my body, he looks like a man possessed. "Darl', I'd tell yeh anything yah wanna hear right now."

"Good… Have you seen Titanic?"

With an impatient growl, he still manages to rip my underwear and I do indeed sit on his face.

* * *

Digger stopped me by the door as I was leaving, sliding something into my pocket, telling me, 'To ring him if I need him and he'll find me.'

He was dressed too but he wasn't leaving the same time as me. "I'll be fine," I assure him, even though he looks like he's fighting an internal struggle. He kisses my forehead for a long moment before pushing some money into my coat pocket. I vow to pay him back later in my head, giving him a tight smile in exchange.

"Go get 'em, tiger." He flicks the black hat on my head, touching my face one last time. Anyone would've thought I was leaving for a long time and perhaps not coming back. I can't say that I don't like his reaction.

It doesn't take long until I'm walking the streets of Gotham, browsing the many shops as I pass. I finally reach the plaza, even though the bus would've been quicker but the walk was nice.

It sits four stories high with multiple floors and escalators scattered at each side and even in the middle of the center taking people up to the shops above. Everything's clean, bright and presented perfectly as the shops fight for your attention. My own thought is, is that I can't believe Digger robbed this place.

But nothing can prepare me for my indecisiveness. I've never bought a dress for a bonafide ball before, and I have no idea what the other people will be wearing. I stare into the fancy shop window at one particular dress for a while and sigh.

"What is a dress you can't wear?"

I whip my head around in surprise, seeing a youngish guy with glasses standing to my right. "I'm sorry?" He looks smartly dressed in a suit, his hair side-swept and he' quite tall, but skinny, very skinny.

"What is a dress you can't wear?" he repeats. He seems very proud of himself, almost gyrating on the spot.

"I kinda heard you the first time." I try to laugh to not sound condescending. "I just didn't understand?"

"It's a riddle." He smiles at me. "I'll tell you, shall I?" He doesn't leave me with an option to refuse because he keeps talking. "A dress you can't wear is an address." His laugh is dorky and I smile awkwardly. "I'm Edward." He holds his hand out to me and I shake it quickly.

"Eunice."

He cocks his head slightly, "Unusual name."

"Yeah…" I shrug, "I blame my parents."

Immediately, he says, "To give me to someone I don't belong to is cowardly, but to take me is noble. I can be a game, but there are no winners. What am I?"

Now my frown actually hurts. I shake my head a little, my mouth opening to ask what the hell he's on about. He must witness my little conniption because he answers quickly.

"It's blame. You blamed your parents and I thought you know, that it was an appropriate joke given the situation." Makes sense. Now, anyway.

"Oh." I look back to the dress and rub the back of my neck nervously. "It was nice to meet you Edward. But I've really got to find a dress and standing here isn't really helping."

"Wouldn't happen to be for the Valentina Belmont Hotel would it?"

I debate whether telling him the truth is a good idea. "Er, yes it is actually," I admit. "How do you—"

He's grinning again. "I'm cordially invited, too. Looks like I'll be seeing you there."

"Nygma!" A harsh voice calls and I spot two smartly dressed men standing together from a distance. "Stop bothering the lady."

He grimaces, muttering, "Excuse me, Eunice. It was nice to meet you."

Even I'm capable enough to realize they are police. I just didn't realize he was. He had a face that was too kind and an honest personality to be associated with the Gotham police. I catch eyes with one of the guys and look away quickly. "Likewise," I call after his retreating form. I make a personal note to remember their faces and pushing myself out of their limelight. Taking a deep breath, I enter the dress shop.

I skim along the different fabrics and colors, touching one as I pass to feel the softness of the satin.

"Can I help you?"

Help is definitely what I need. "Yes, actually," I admit aloud. "I need a dress for a ball, and I'm pretty hopeless." The shop assistant, a pretty blonde thing in what appears to be designer clothing, why are they always blonde?, smiles back at me and checks my size just by sight.

"I think I have just the thing," she comments. "Come with me." She takes me further to the back of the shop and presents me to a navy blue and white dress. The material crosses over the front of the dress leaving the arms off -shoulder. It changes at the waist to an overlapped and pleated design hanging down along the bottom, awash with a stormy but mainly white pattern with traces of navy blue. I can't work out whether it reminds me of storming clouds or whether it's floral. But it's utterly beautiful.

"That's… too much," I stutter in awe.

"Ridiculous," the blond waves my words away. "Try it on." She pulls it from the hanger and ushers me to the changing rooms. "Take your time." Whether I like it or not.

Sliding myself into the dress, it fits me like a glove and matches my dark eyes and hair perfectly. I can't stop staring at myself and twirl for a second, eyeing the back of it for a minute.

"Are you ready?" The assistant's voice calls from the other side and I take a deep breath before leaving my changing room.

From the smirk on her face and the older lady who stops shopping to peer over at me, I know it's the one. "It's perfect…" The assistant clasps her hands together. "What do you think?"

"I think… I love it," I smile. I really do.

"You just need to get your hair tied up. We have shoes to match and earrings too. I think long diamanté to match the length of your dress."

I hope it doesn't rain on the night of the ball as the back of the dress drags along the floor a little, but not too much that it would restrict my movement. I decide this is the one, and Digger gave me more than enough money to buy it. I sneakily checked the price tag in the changing room.

Smiling up to the woman, I'm pleased that this awkward faze is out of my life, all thanks to the police of Gotham forcing me inside.

"Do you do matching gloves?"

* * *

"I'm back!" I shout as I enter the apartment. "You'd never guess…" My bags bustle either side of me, hanging off my wrists and a takeaway coffee in the other. Kicking the door shut with my foot, I spin to find Digger displeased in front of me.

"Bird, I've been calling ya phone." He sounds and looks… not pleased.

I shrug defensively, "I had my hands full and I was almost home."

He growls, "I was 'bout to come find ya."

"Well…" I smile at him. "I'm here now." He rushes the two steps between us and I drop the bags but grip my coffee tightly from the surprise. He kisses me fiercely, his fingers pushing into the back of my hair.

"When I call, ya pick up. I don't give a fuck what yah doing."

I frown at the demand. "Has something happened?"

"Gotham isn't safe," he tells me while checking over me. "Police are reinvestigating the Plaza. There's a new chief of police."

I remember the two men, and Edward. "I saw police at the Plaza today." He frowns on my words and takes the coffee from me. "They are going to the ball."

"I figured." He still seems really serious, too serious for my liking.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm just—" He pauses, his eyes softening. "I was worried, doll, that's all." But the tone doesn't match the words. There is something he is hiding from me and _that_ hurts more than I'd like to say. My eyes drop and he strokes my chin making me lift to meet his again. "You don't have teh worry 'bout anything. I swear it."

"I'm not worried for me, I'm worried for you. What if they find out?"

He shrugs, replying, "Nothin' points to me. They don't even know who I am."

The thought of losing him is almost unbearable. I couldn't imagine coming home and knowing he's not here. My stomach knots and I suddenly feel sick. It's almost a panicky sensation suddenly growing in my body and I lean forward against his chest, gripping his 'Captain' jumper as if that; if I let go, I may just lose him completely.

But I also have something I need to tell Digger which he isn't going to like…

"So…" I speak into the fabric of his jumper and he hums. "…I _may_ have a part-time job…" This is the information I wanted to share when I came through the door but he stopped me.

" _Euna_!"

I hold up my hands as if to ward off any arguments he might try to make. "It's a coffee shop. This coffee shop…" I point to my cup on the side and he eyes it shadily. "Not a bar – it's three days a week. It's nothing, but every little bit helps right?"

He growls, "You were only meant to find a bloody dress!"

"Two birds, one stone," I chuckle nervously.

His response is a grunt.

* * *

A/N

Long time no see. Sorry this took FOREVER to get up, but I've been visiting dark places ;)

Thanks to K. Riley for editing this for me.

Enjoy this little filler ;)


	11. Chapter 11

It hits Friday night and I know Digger is still pissed off at me. Not majorly pissed off, but more like I've considered him less of a man for having gone out of my way to find myself a job. I really thought he would have accepted it by now but the way he's grimacing over the lasagna I've made after another tirade of questions about what I will be doing, says otherwise.

I drop my cutlery on my plate and turn towards him on the couch. I wait like this till he looks at me. "Is there something wrong with my lasagna?" I try my best to seem annoyed and cross my arms for the full effect.

He shrugs, the plate balancing precariously on his lap.

"You're acting like a child," I say. He merely changes the channel over to some loud and obnoxious talk show. "Digger…" The crowd cheers and it fuels my anger. "Fine…" I stand up, grabbing my plate and his – which he protests – and take them to the counter, dumping them down carelessly.

"What the fuck—" he begins.

"No, you 'what the fuck'," I say without thinking and shake my head at the ridiculousness of it. "The last few days you have been short with me – and don't deny it!" I point a finger at him when he opens his mouth. "It's because I got a job, isn't it?"

"Bird…" He sighs, scratching at his beard and leaning forward till his elbows hit his knees. "…I'm happy for ya. I am. But can I just remind you of all the shit that happened at the bar? I'm gettin' premonitions over 'ere. Can ya blame me?"

I'm getting impatient. "So what are you saying?"

He smirks coyly, muttering, "You attract trouble." I keep my mouth shut, just growling wordlessly instead while balling up my hands and padding off towards the bedroom. He's following behind me, because unlike all the other men I've met, Digger never knows when to call it a day.

"I've spent twenty-seven years existing without your help!" I say when I finally pass by the bedroom and get to the bathroom, catching him in the mirror directly behind me. I lean down to the bath, putting the plug in and running the taps.

"After all this time, I never knew yah age…" His voice trails off.

I shrug. "You… never asked…" It's true; we'd never shared birthdays or anything particular like that. We'd accepted each other for who we were without having to over complicate it with trivial things.

Digger states firmly, puffing out his chest, "I'm not annoyed or discouragin' ya, I'm worried."

"It's three days a week." I point out, sitting on the edge of the tub and swirling bubbles into the water. "It's nothing."

"What if…" he sighs; "ah, fuck it." He turns to leave.

"What?"

He looks down at me for a long moment, his gray eyes studying me closely. "Yeh know, what if yah find someone honest, like?"

I frown because I'm not sure what he's trying to say. "What are you saying?"

"…Someone that does things the right way. Comfortable life to offer. Nice car. Nice home." He shifts uncomfortably. "Yah know…"

"I don't know if you noticed, but I'm not exactly a prize catch, Digger." I stand up and take a step in front of him, tilting my head up to his intimidating height. "Is this what this is about? You think I'm going to meet someone else?" His huge, warm hand cups my cheek and I push my face into it, feeling his other arm slide onto my waist.

"I know yeh deserve better." Digger's voice is low.

"I don't want better," I insist. "I want you, and whatever comes with that. Even if you are a bit of an ass when you're in a mood." I grin up at him and he breaks the solemn look on his face by his lip quirking. The realization of how tall Digger actually is hits me at this angle as my neck begins to hurt. "You want to take a bath with me? Even though… I don't really know how you're going to fit." I calculate the logistics in my head and he begins laughing.

"Enjoy ye bath, Euna. I look forward to yah nimble body afterward." He winks. "Start stretchin'." He knocks my chin, leaving me with stomach curdling thoughts.

* * *

It's Saturday. And I'm really nervous.

I twiddle my hands leaning on the counter. I've been a mess like this all day. Not only do I loathe dressing up, but I know Chloe is coming to help me get ready. I know Joker is at the ball with his goons. And I know the new chief of police will be there.

I can't eat. I can't think. I feel sick. It also doesn't help that Digger's been on the phone with someone for the past half hour and he's locked himself in the bedroom, his voice rising at points in the conversation and it only makes it worse.

He comes flying out of the door, a complete air of rage surrounding him and I just keep still, studying him nervously.

He notices me and mutters gruffly, "I'm sorry, darl'." Well, this isn't good. An apology before even telling me is never good. "Tonight…"

"Oh no…oh hell no," I begin.

He quickly assures me, "I'll be there. Just, I won't be able to take you there. I've got something to do before."

"Digger, please. I can't arrive on my own," I beg shamelessly. My breathing picks up and I feel like I'm going to hyperventilate. "Don't make me do that."

"Darl', listen, he's pullin' the strings. I'll be there for when yeh arrive." Digger makes his way over to me, surrounding me with his large arms. As much as I want to complain further, I won't. We've been over this countless times. We know what entails us if we don't. And not only have that, I now feel Digger has built some reservation over me since our conversation last night. Me just being his scared girlfriend is only going to enhance his uncertainties, and I really don't want to lose him.

Last night after my bath, I came out to the bedroom still lingering after his words of promise, but he was asleep. I slipped in next to him, curling into his side to which he only gently patted my arm. I felt dejected I must say. It was unusual for Digger to act that way. Usually, he was very hands on and eager. There was something missing last night.

"So when you leave this afternoon?" I question, making a gap between us so I can judge the look on his face. It's exactly what I imagined, a grimace.

"I'll see yah at the ball." He breaks eye contact and goes to move away from me.

"Wait!" I hold onto him. "Can we just… can we just be together in the here and now?"

His answer is very unpleasing. "I'm here now, doll." His words couldn't be any colder.

* * *

Chloe arrives on the dot of 5.30. Digger is dressed to go out, a bag in his hand which I assume holds stuff for later and I have no idea where he's going. I feel utterly miserable.

Chloe is full of life, greeting Digger enthusiastically and smiling at me as she enters with, what looks like, a makeup box.

"7 pm, no later," Digger warns the both of us. Chloe is going to escort me in the cab to just outside the building so Digger has a sense of a relief that I'm not getting there by myself.

But he doesn't say goodbye to me.

My mouth opens and closes as he walks out the door and I rush up from the couch and call out his name, stopping him in the corridor. He turns, staring back at me, then approaches slowly.

"Digger, what's going on? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, darl'. Just get yourself ready and I'll see yah there."

"Why do I feel so shut out by you?"

"Euna, we can't really be havin' this conversation now. We got things to do, bird. Seriously." His eyebrows bow as if in thought and I bite my lip.

"I guess I'll see you there." He just nods at me, tucking hair behind my ear. He waits for a second before leaning in, pecking my lips quickly.

"I left summit on the side for yeh." I watch him stroll the rest of the way to the elevator without looking back.

What have I done? I must've done something.

* * *

"Oh my god…" Chloe says with a gasp.

I must admit, she has done my makeup perfectly. My hair is styled back into a twisted knot and the front pieces are loosely curled with tongs. It leaves my shoulders bare to the elements. My face is framed by long diamond earrings. I would feel utterly gracious with this beautiful dress on – if my mind wasn't elsewhere.

"Well, smile Euna…" Chloe says, snapping me from my thoughts and holding her phone up to take a picture. "I know your taste was different to mine, but that dress is seriously envious material…" The camera flashes and I blink a few times.

"Could you not…?" I scoff, trying to sound less threatening, even though that's what I was intending. I turn and face the mirror, adjusting my long gloves then rubbing the subtle blushed pink Chloe had painted my lips with. "It's 6.30. The cab will be here any minute."

She nods. "Right, let's go then." She stands hurriedly, scouring for her shoes.

My dress rustles as I move towards the door and I only stop when I remember what Digger had said before he left. A white delicate box sits on the side, my name scribbled scruffily on the tag. While Chloe's preoccupied, I dare to look inside. I remove the lid and white wrapping paper and peer down to a glittering, silver mask. It's a half-mask and finely detailed with a swirling and particular patterns.

I'd forgotten we had to wear masks.

"That's beautiful," Chloe whispers over my shoulder. I hadn't even heard her approach. "Put it on. Be Ms. Mysterious for one night."

"Will you help me?" I ask, passing her the headpiece. Slowly, she lowers it over my face, tying the lace into a bow in the back of my hair neatly. The mask covers my cheeks and most of my nose, but it's not uncomfortable. "How does it look?"

"It suits the dress amazingly. It's like he knew."

I laugh to myself. That's Digger for you.

* * *

As we pull up to the grand hotel, it's swirling with life. Couples linking arms. Valets aiding people from limousines. Before we get too close I tap the taxi man's shoulder. "Here is fine."

"But we're not outside," Chloe tries to protest.

I reply, eyeing the rich folk, "I can't be seen getting out of a taxi in front of all these people."

"She has a point," says the taxi man casually over his shoulder. I just roll my eyes.

"It's fine. I'll walk the rest of the way." I hand Chloe cash. "Thank you so much for your help. I literally couldn't have done it without you."

"Let me know how it goes." She smiles. "And it was nice. I enjoyed myself," she says sincerely, squeezing my hand for a fraction of a second and I open the cab door. "Have a great night, Euna."

"I will." I half-smile, my throat is dry and my voice is shaky. I take a deep breath shutting the door and turn to face to the hotel in front of me. It's lit up grandly with red and white lights. Banners are strewn across the front announcing the opening and a band is playing to one side of the main entrance. There is even a red carpet leading up to the stairs and branching out towards the doors. You can do this. You can do this. I tell myself over and over.

With each step I get closer, I realize I'm the only female unaccompanied. The women look at me strangely, then at my dress. I try my best to ignore their stares and their husbands and filter past. I stop when I get to the young man on the door that is suited in a tuxedo and he holds a list close to his chest.

"Name?"

"Eunice Evans."

"Have you got any identification?" He asks.

"Oh, yes. Of course." I fumble with my clutch bag with my gloved hands, popping the clip and finding my driving license inside the zip pocket. I tilt up my mask and he nods in approval after a long minute and waves me through.

The first thing I see is a chandelier, a huge, pristine chandelier. And after that, bodies. Everywhere. There are way too many people here and I have no idea where to go. I must be staring a long time as people begin to turn to look at me and I meekly smile pushing myself forward. No one is recognizable. Everyone looks like machines or artificial as all their traits are taken away by the masks. As is mine.

"Champagne, Ma'am?" A waiter holds out a silver tray filled with unique glasses.

"Uh. Thank you." I try my hardest not to down it in one. I'm more disappointed now more than anything that Digger is not here to greet me like he said he would be. Is he even here? I keep following the people in front to the large archway in front of me where the music is coming from. The music sounds live and typical of what you would expect from a posh dance like this. I then think maybe Digger hasn't noticed me as I'm wearing a mask the same as everyone else, even though the colors and patterns vary and it makes me even more despairing that he may not ever find me.

"Excuse me," I ask a young guy who looks like he works here. "I'm looking for someone and I don't know if they have arrived yet. How do I find out?" My voice sounds slightly strangled as I try to raise it above the droning of music.

"You can ask behind the bar. It's a big place, so it happens quite a lot." He smiles kindly, pointing to a fancily decorated and long bar along one side of the room. "I hope you find them. Please, excuse me." He bows a little and walks off behind me.

I smile meekly to the people around me that catch my eye, even offering a hello at points till I get in front of the bar. Here, I slam my clutch down on the counter, very unladylike, and rub the side of my temple. The waitress walks along the bar and I throw a hand out waving her down. "Hey, excuse me. I need your—" She walks straight past. " _I wonder if they have a complaints department… cow_." I mumble. I turn and rest my arms behind me, scanning the crowd.

The people dance across the gleaming wooden floor, parting slightly, and that's when I see him. Well, who else could it be with mutton chops and being six feet tall and over two hundred pounds worth of pure muscle packed into a black tuxedo and bow tie? But instead of making my way over straight away, I watch him through the crowd. He's with people I don't know and have never seen before, and more disappointingly they are surrounded by plentiful women.

"You have a long pouty face."

I scare and throw a look over my shoulder to none other than Harley Quin mock-pouting expressively. Her dress is exquisite, showing off one leg and is overall tightly fitting. It's a deep purple and when she moves, it shimmers constantly. With her hair sleeked to one side, I would almost consider her normal – apart from the heart on her cheek.

I don't say anything and stare straight out ahead of me.

"You shy or summit?" She downs part of her drink.

"No. I just…"

"Wanna dance?" She grabs my arm.

"With you?"

"No with Mickey Mouse over there…" She points to some larger gentleman before depositing her drink into a random woman's hand and dragging me with her.

"This isn't traditionallll…" I warble as she twirls me almost instantly when we hit the floor. People move out of our way and I feel like her block to grind. She moves fluidly around me and I can't keep up. It's all extremely seductive and even more so when she acts the man, pulling me into her. "Wow, okay… I think this may be…"

She giggles, "Don't be silly."

"Seriously, I haven't had enough to drink…" I shake my head while still floating across the floor.

"Why didn't you say?" She stops abruptly, yanking me with her. "Move people!" She exclaims to a group, waving them off dismissively. She takes me straight towards Digger, right up behind him and he doesn't turn around.

He's forgotten about me. He's not even concerned, nor aware I might be around. My heart begins to constrict in my chest, pulsing into my ears and Harley lets go of my hand and disappears.

But I don't have to touch him to make him look at me. The group sitting on the table have stopped talking, heads tilted in my direction. I catch Joker in the farthest corner with Harley whispering something into his ear. The young man with a hooked nose Digger was talking to peers around him first before Digger turns to look. He's wearing a black mask, like most of the men, but I can see his blue eyes regardless. They don't seem to recognize me, then suddenly soften.

"Euna?"

"Surprise," I say dryly. "…And thanks." His eyes flick to the right quickly before landing back on me, then down to the design of my dress. I take it as a sign of confusion. "Thanks for letting my _one_ fear of this evening come true." I take the glass of champagne out of his hand and down it.

Pulling me away from the crowd and behind a podium, he talks quickly. "I told ya to wait and I'll be there."

"Where? Outside on my own? Inside the lobby with everyone staring at me?"

He sighs. "Of course not on yah own, and they only starin' cause you look…" He hesitates longer than necessary, his jaw twitching in almost anger. "Yah look beautiful, doll."

"Who are these people? Why are you at a table with Joker and his goons?"

He puts a finger to my mouth. "That's enough." He sneaks a look behind him then back at me. "Euna, yeh gotta trust me. And I don't want yeh near any of these people. They're dangerous."

I'm getting angry. "So you were just going to leave me waiting until you were done?"

"Yes. No… Don't do that."

"Don't do what? Speak the truth?" I peer back to the table. "Look, I get it. I'm not like any of these people here. I don't know whether something's happened or whether you're ashamed of me, but I'd rather know."

"I'm not ashamed of you," he snaps. "I'm—"

"That is _not_ your pet." Joker's voice interrupts him and Digger stares down at me before turning to face him. "Let me look at you." Joker twirls me. "Just splendid, fantastic, majestic – all the traits of a fine woman. Don't you agree, George?" There's a tick in Digger's jaw after he says his name. "Do you mind if I steal her for a bit, _mate_?" I frantically look up at Digger, pleading, but he solemnly nods.

Keeping my eyes on Digger, I'm dragged to the floor just as the room goes quiet and another song begins to play. He holds me close, so close I can smell his cologne and cigar smoke and I try to keep my head back and away to avoid any further intimacy. He grips my hand tightly and moves domineeringly across the floor.

"I'm so glad you could make it." I try not to look at him and stare down at his white suit and black shirt. Of course, the joker would have to stand out. He pulls me closer when I don't reply. "Still not much of a talker…" He twirls me, slamming me back against him. "…But that's okay." A cold hand slides onto the back of my bodice, holding me against him. "…You see I really wanted you to _come_ ," he whispers suggestively and I frown, even though he can't see it. "Just to see exactly where George's heart really lies…" He motions his head towards Digger who is on the sidelines sipping a drink with a hand in his pocket, watching us very carefully with the hooked nose man jabbering at his side.

My world tilts upside down when Joker tilts me, walking fingers across my chest for a long moment. "There's a place for you, with me and Harley. We can get you living comfortably."

"No thanks," I finally say, gritting my teeth and he pulls me up so quickly my head snaps. Now we are almost dancing with him holding me up as I refuse to make any attempt with him. My anger is all in the way he pulls me back to him and I slam hard against him.

But it only makes him worse.

He grips my hands painfully, fingers digging into the material on my back and he's very close to my ear. With his words low and threatening he whispers, making the hairs on my neck stand up. " _Well, if ya won't be my pet, I better put ya to work than. Can't leave the Aussie being the bread giver._ " Unexpectedly, he grips my cheeks and makes me look in a certain direction. "See the tall, handsome fella with the brown hair standing next to the bar." I slightly nod as his hand is squeezing my skin and I just want this over with. "Chief of police. He has a thing for brunettes. I don't care in which way you do it, but I need to know how well his allegiance lies with the law or whether or not there is going to be a dreadful accident on the field. You get what I'm saying?"

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"I don't care but you got three days to find out," he snarls and I find myself trying to back away.

"Do yeh mind?"

Digger finally arrives, tapping his shoulder and pulling me away. He moves into the crowd and slowly falls into an easy pace. I can't look at him.

"Euna—"

"I know what he wants," I interrupt, tears stinging my eyes, even my lip quivering as I speak. "He wants me to get to know the chief of police and whether he sways the law." I shake my head, my hand gripping his shoulder. "I can't—I can't do that. What if—"

"Nothin's goin' to happen to yah."

"I'm a terrible liar, you know that. Plus, I'm not scared for me. If he finds out about you, then what?"

"They don't have a clue who they're lookin' for, bird."

"What if I say something wrong? What if he picks up the report from the police from the bar?"

"Joker buried the report. All ya got to do is go for a chat. Did he say anything else?"

"He likes brunettes…"

Digger tenses and our swaying halts for a second. He's so tall and looks incredibly handsome this evening. I find myself studying every little detail in the moment of lapse, but more so because his mohawk is neatly gelled back and I've never seen it like this before.

"He said that to piss me off. That's all. I won't ask yeh to do it."

"He'll hurt you if I don't," I say, confused.

"Maybe. He has tah catch me first." He winks, smiling, but I don't see the humor in it and peer away, biting my lip.

I can't wait anymore. I have to know. "Digger, the last few days. You've been…distant? I thought maybe… are you… Do you still want to be with me?" I suddenly feel anxious. "Because if not, tell me now. I won't stop you from leaving and I'm sick of guessing." I say honestly, meeting his eyes.

" _Eunacorn_ … I'm balls deep into yah, love. Like I keep tellin' ya, I'm a cunt. Can be. I thought that if I made some space between us then yeh wouldn't be of any interest. I don't want yeh involved. I thought I could do it."

"It's far too late for that… wait… Do what?"

He admits, "I had a plan in me head, an' I thought that if yah got rid of me by your doing, then it would prove to him ya not involved. But I couldn't fuckin' do it an' I tried. An' I couldn't. Not even two days." I don't think. I pull my hand back and slap him so hard I yelp, his mask moving to reveal one side of his face. "I deserved that." So I slap him again. "An' that." But it's still not good enough and I knee him straight in the groin. But even though he slouches over, I give him credit for recovering quickly, pulling me back to him and pinning me against him.

"You were trying to make me break up with you!? You are a…" I hiss, about to start my tirade of insults.

"Treacherous? Deceptive? Cunning? Exploitive?" He pants though between words in obvious pain and I'm glad. "That's what my record says."

"No, you're just a fucking idiot!"

"Nah, yer right, I am." We're basically not even dancing anymore, and he puts his face into the crook of my neck so I can hear him. "Because I made the biggest mistake a scumbag thief like me can make. And I've made it every bloody day from the moment I met yeh, little bird." His voice is gruff and I let my eyes close when his lips unexpectedly touch against my neck. I exhale slowly and automatically my hands rise up and grip onto the back of his neck. "I like yah dress by the way." I open my eyes and fall into his. He smirks at me.

Rocking me a little with the music, he sings the words of a song I'm not sure of – his usual tactic of avoiding anything sensitive.

"Digger, I wouldn't break up with you." I avert my eyes; it was now or never. "I… love you." His body tenses up and his lips part and I can tell he's frowning. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything." Though it hurts. I have never said that to anyone before and it felt extremely foreign.

"Eunacorn, I think I fell in love wid ya the moment I stepped in that bar, love." He chuckles. "Ya still a whinge bag though." I try not to smile and he licks his lip quickly. "What's ya bet on a room in this place tonight?"

"Hundred to one. Why?"

"Gotta make up for lost time…" He's pulling me through the crowd before he can even finish.

"What about—"

"Showed our face, didn't we? Job's fuckin' done. He can suck mah balls." I don't look back because Digger doesn't. A whole load of weight has lifted off my shoulders and I clatter along clumsily behind him in my heels.

"Digger, slow down!" But he doesn't, making it to the reception in under a minute. He exchanges cash quickly – a lot of cash, and shows some sort of I.D before the receptionist takes her time finding the keycard. In the meantime, he pulls me closer and tenderly kisses my lips, and then the nub of my nose peeking out from my mask before the receptionist grabs our attention.

"Room 713," she smiles

"Thanks, darl'." He pulls me along but I'm still dragging, so he picks me up bridal style, uncaring for stares and I smile widely at him. "Is there a quick way outta that dress or is it like a fuckin' puzzle?" he asks while we ride the elevator.

"It's just the ties at the back. Do you like it?"

"I'd like it on the bedroom floor better." The lift dings and he looks both ways, following the numbers to our room. It looks fancy and smells new up here.

"Is this a suite?" It looks too posh and spread apart along the corridor to be a standard room.

"Fuckin' ay." He slots in the keycard and it beeps quietly and he somehow holds me and opens the door at the same time.

"Oh my god…" I wiggle from his arms. It's modern and decorated in cream walls, long dark drapes hanging across a set of balcony doors to the view of Gotham. The furniture is plush and mostly dark wood, even flowers sitting in a vase next to the TV. I believe we are the first people to ever use this room.

Digger pushes some thin double doors to the bedroom and the bed is easily twice the size of mine with a bountiful amount of cushions that seem almost absurd. To our left is the ensuite bathroom and I clasp my hands together. "I've never stayed in a suite before. But I wish I had my—"

"Yeh love me?" He asks. I begin to feel a little hot up my back under his sight but he moves behind me, untying my dress. "Did ya mean it?"

"I do." For a millisecond, he traces his fingers down the back of my neck.

"So you'd marry meh?" My dress drops to the floor, puddling at my feet. I'm not wearing a bra, just a black, lacy thong and he clicks his tongue.

"I… probably would. Why? Are you… asking?" I watch him shed his bow and his jacket, unbuttoning the buttons from the top of his white shirt before he does the unthinkable – he drops down onto one knee and I don't even know where to look or feel at this precise moment. Everything is suddenly feeling dizzy in the room and I eventually catch his eyes which amusedly squint at me.

"Marry this pretentious bastard, Euna." His gold tooth glints at me. "I don't hava ring, though, so bear with me."

"Okay…"

"Okay?"

"Yes!?" I must be absolutely crazy.

He instantly stands, picking me up in the process and I wrap my legs around him, grabbing his face and hungrily taking his lips. His fingers go into my hair immediately, releasing it from the clips and letting it drop down to my shoulders. He trails to my neck with open mouth kisses, eventually shifting us onto the bed and dropping me down. I reach out stroking his beard as he rids himself of his shirt, unbuttoning his pants as quickly as he can. Dipping down towards my stomach he trails across the skin, sliding his hands up my legs and under the band of my thong, bringing it back down my leg fluidly.

I think he kisses me all the way back to my lips but I couldn't be sure as his fingers circle my clit and I can barely think straight as a heat already coils in my stomach. "I've missed yeh, little bird," he groans in my ear. His weight presses me into the mattress, his fingers begin to enter my core and his hot breath goes to my throat. I moan, loudly. Shivering at every single sensation. On my body. Inside my body. And even the sated happiness expanding in my mind from the way this evening has turned out.

He's extremely hot and heavy upon me, completely shrouding me. The way I like it.

Digger tells me he loves me again as he enters me, teasing my mouth with his as he does so and watches me fully submit to him.

Captain Boomerang certainly lives up to his name. I know, even if I was to throw him away, he would always come back to me.

* * *

A/N

Sorry this took forever!

And a huge thanks to K. Riley for sorting through the muddle. Give her some credit guys!

Thanks to everyone spurring me on in this story! It's highly appreciated you just don't even know! ;)

Enjoy!


	12. Chapter 12

A/N

I'm so sorry this has taken FOREVER.

Thank you for all the great reviews, and I hope you enjoy the latest chapter. It took me a while to get my head back into it.

I'm also going to say now there may be mistakes as it's completely unbeta'd at the moment.

There is also bad language and smut throughout, but what did you expect, really? C'mon, it's Digger. :)

Enjoy!

* * *

I look at Digger sitting across from me still dressed in his tux, his hair wild from our night and I can't help but smile.

Though I can't say I look any better in my dress, my hair crimped in the most bizarre way and poking out weirdly around my head. But we both sit contently, waiting for our breakfast in this little rundown Café about ten minutes from my place.

Or should I say _our_ place, now?

Digger doesn't seem to care for the strange looks, so neither do I. But I miss my toothbrush.

"Yah a magnificent little creature in the mornin', love." Digger finally chirps up, capturing my attention. I'm a little tired, but overall, I'm feeling pretty good. In fact, I feel like I can take on the world right now.

"You're a Wookie," I smirk playfully. The little shits trying to insult my gracious morning attire and new the-day-after-the-night-before look. How dare he.

"Yah hair says 'I've been fucked in each hole.' Ya know that?"

"Well, yours says 'Help'. Because seriously, what the hell is going on with that?" He looks at me sharply and I wave my fingers at him trying to be cute.

"I was complimenting ya!"

"Don't try to pass off an insult to my sex hair as-" He grins and I know I've done it again. I just exhale. Not even my face flushes anymore. Digger licks his teeth, trying to hide his smile and sits upright as if he won this round while the waitress places our food in front of us. "…Thanks."

Digger doesn't waste time and delves straight into his eggs. "So, bird, tell me, I did the shit, classical, pansy bit and now I'm thinkin', what yeh gonna do for me?"

"As per usual. I have no idea what you are talking about." I say blandly, picking up my toast and biting a piece.

"I wanna fuck ya asshole." He holds his hands up in his proclamation. My toast becomes jammed in my throat and I scrabble for my coffee, spluttering. "Don't die on me before I even get a chance."

Finally, I'm able to breathe and I scowl at him laughing at me. "That's disgusting."

"Just testin' the waters. Some kittens love it some don't, just like belly scratches."

"Are you referring to women as kittens…. actually…do _not_ answer that."

"Worth a shot, though, eh?"

"We're not even married and I can see us getting a divorce." I purposefully stab my egg on my words, my eyebrows raised. "I _must_ be crazy."

"Ay, now. I'm sittin' right here yah know."

"How could I forget." He kicks my foot under the table making me drop my forkful of food.

"Sorry, bird."

"Do you guys need anything?" The waitress asks as my dropped forkful finally reaches my mouth. Typical.

"Yeah, two toasties to go." I frown at Digger's order and he catches my eye as the waitress leaves. "So we don't have to cook lunch. I got big plans, doll."

* * *

Big plans involve nothing but some crap movie on the TV and the duvet covering us both. We sit a long while in silence as the film plays out, until I get bored.

"So, when are we getting married?" I ask, peering up at him from underneath his arm draped over me. "I like Summer."

"As soon as possible," Digger replies flippantly, gnawing on his nail. "Eunice Harkness. Has a nice ring to it."

"I thought you didn't like your name."

"I hate the name George," he says with spite as if it was leaving a bad taste in his mouth. "Was the name of the old man who knocked me Ma about. The name she used ta shout when they disappeared…" I see his jaw tick as he says it, his eyes trailing off to the side along with his voice. Obviously its raised old an old memory of his.

"I'm sorry."

"Ain't ya problem, love. You would've liked my mum, though." I _would_ have liked his mum. For some reason that makes me sad and I keep my mouth shut to not press him any further. "You would've got on like a house on fire. She was fulla life an a heart big enough for the entire human race. She still loved me when I robbed the neighbors."

"You _what_?"

"They were spoilt little shits and I wanted to teach the brats a lesson. Caught red handed and me Ma had to come and get me. I was thirteen." He chuckles. "Never caught again after that. You live an learn."

"You're a bad example."

"To who? You?"

"No, to the younger generation."

He shifts a little next to me, kissing his teeth. "Nah, I wouldn't have my kids or anybody's kids encouraged into my line of work."

My curiosity gets the better of me. "Do you want kids?"

Quietly he turns to face me, a frown on his face. "Why?"

I'm already blushing because my question was innocent and now I feel like I'm trying to suggest something. "I'm just curious. That's all."

Digger's smile is massive like it always is when he knows I'm uncomfortable. "With you, I'd want a small Harkness army."

"That would take a long time." My eyes drop to his arm over me, the hand now on my breast, massaging suggestively.

"We better get started, then." I'm startled when his other hand touches my thigh under the duvet.

"You're insane."

"You know what they say about the crazy ones. Come on, Euna, where's your sense of adventure?" When he begins to stand I realize he's serious. He takes me and the duvet up into his arms and begins to walk towards the bedroom.

The muscles in my legs still ache from last night but I grip helplessly to him and watch his sight roam across my face with his bottom lip between his teeth. I smile at him. He throws me down on the mattress and I bounce ungracefully as the air leaves my lungs. "Digger!" I try to fend him off and start laughing when he tickles my sides, eventually pulling on the waist of my pajama bottoms. He yanks them down my legs and situates himself between my thighs with his own sweats half way to his knees as we stay half tangled up in the duvet.

He's terribly impatient.

The head of his cock is then rubbed teasingly against me and I bite my lip in anticipation. I love it when he looks feral.

Slowly he begins to enter me and he groans out expressively, "you were made for me, darl'." He pulls back and thrusts harder and I grab his biceps that are keeping him sturdy above me. His pace quickens and the sensation of him, along with his frantic movements form the stirrings of my release that cause me to hum with his every movement as I listen to his nonsense compliments.

He grabs my hips, pulling me closer to him and unexpectedly, he leans back and slaps my clit.

"Digger!" My voice sounds like an angry gasp in shock, but he merely smirks down, leaning forward till his pelvic bone grinds against me and claims my lips.

I realize now I will probably never be able to keep up with him.

His mouth is warm, soft, as well as the small hairs of his newly trimmed beard tickling my face. While still kissing me, he begins thrusting harder and I moan into his mouth, him pecking and biting my lips while I lose myself and totally unable to respond.

"That's it, love," he encourages. "I'm gonna cum in that pretty little hole of yours." He pushes hair off my face and grabs my neck gently, changing to rolling his hips so he rubs against me again. "…every bloody night I'm gonna fill yah hole." He promises.

Oh god.

The tether of my release finally snaps and he growls into the room in my absent state, his fingers slightly pushing into my neck as he holds me down, pulsing and throbbing inside of me.

Digger sniffs as he stays with me, but tilts back, sitting on his legs and wiping the sweat from his _fast_ exertion from his temples. "You got a beautiful cunt," He exclaims while staring down between my thighs after having slowly pulled himself out. "I painted it beautifully, too." He thumbs the nub of my sensitive nerves. "…Beautiful." I blush, the rush from arousal draining and self-consciousness kicking in as he plays with me.

I smile though when he finally catches my eyes, "and it's all mine. Till death do us part, right? And not even then, love."

Catching my breath, I manage to pant, "then you better put a ring on it."

With his voice octaves higher, he begins collapsing to my side. "You cheeky, beggar!"

* * *

It rains Monday.

My shifts at my new job are Tuesday's, Wednesday's and Thursday's. Quite perfect really. It leaves me with long weekends so I'm not complaining. Plus they are mainly morning shifts, so no late nights either.

Digger brings me out of my daydreaming, running over with the pavement slapping under his boots as I hide under the cover of a shop doorway.

He kisses me hard when he gets to me and I'm caught off guard. "Darl', I found it."

"You found the jewelry shop?" He wanted to buy from an exclusive jewelry shop so nobody had the same style of ring. We had spent an hour looking for the small tucked away retailer till Digger told me to wait while he jogged the street instead of making me walk in the rain.

"That an the ring an all." His eyes glint, smiling naturally and looking very pleased with himself. I want to stroke him. He reminds me of a cute fuzzy creature sometimes. My Wookie.

"Oh…That was quick." I can see him trying to look down my top, even though there is not much to look at, and ignore it. "Digger, it doesn't have to be anything big and fancy. You know that?"

"Stop with your smartass assumptions. It's perfect. Ye have little faith, little bird." He begins tugging on my jacket, and while he hurries us along, his hand slips down to hold mine. I still get butterflies.

As we approach a wooden-framed store front, Digger puts his hands over my eyes, walking me forward and I hear the bell chime as we enter and the rush of the heat from the room. We eventually stop and Digger's breath bats my ear. "Ya ready? _My lil' fine ass Eunacorn_ …" He sounds horny.

I jump from foot to foot and he chuckles behind me. "Okay, yes! I'm ready." Peeling his hands away from my face, an older gentleman stands in front behind the counter, smiling at me. There on the glass counter sits a ring completely flush with gemstones. The band is silver with the smallest and shiniest gems I've seen. I'm not one for gold jewelry, that's more Digger's thing, so I'm glad he chose silver... but shiny…

I squeal as this magnificent sight turns me into the typical over-excited, honeymooning girlfriend, turning to him and jumping straight into his already anticipated arms and uncaring for the man who starts laughing behind us. I make sure to kiss every part of his face, my bag slipping from my arm in the process, Digger chuckling that I can feel mainly through his chest pressed against mine. "I love it. _I love you_ …" I drawl almost sickeningly sweet _._

But I mean it. I really did love him. To me, the ring only signified how much he'd thought about this; how much he had learned about me and more specifically, how much he wanted to be with me. Really _really_ be with me.

" _I love you, too, bird_ ," Digger whispers while I smother him.

"I'm guessing you're taking the ring, then?" The old man asks and Digger turns his head still under my assault, flinching as I continue to cover his face and pull him to me. I'm sure my bumcrack is showing from the top of my jeans but I don't care anymore.

"Yeah, mate." He grunts when I tighten my hold, coughing slightly. "…Make it snappy."

* * *

Digger's fingers dig into the skin of my ass, splayed and pulling me to rock my hips as he lies underneath me.

I'm riding his face. His request.

I don't really know what to do with my hands, but as I'm completely overwhelmed I keep them specifically to hold back my hair as my legs begin to weaken. His tongue is incredibly warm as he delves between my folds, leaving electrifying trails, his beard satisfyingly tickling between my legs.

When he uses his fingers with his combination, I feel myself gush. "Digger!"

"Sweet mother of Jesus, I'm swimmin'!"

But he doesn't stop, pulling me down harder on his mouth. "Digger…I'm gonna come. I'm gonna come…" I chant, unable to stop the uncoiling sensation. "Shit. Shit…" No matter how I try to hold back, it happens, and I let myself go, feeling him suck on my clit till I manage to come to my senses.

When I look down, his eyes are wild, and I can tell he's smiling. He flips me off, hovering over me and wipes his mouth with his forearm. I take the opportunity as he sits up, him eyeing my body, to appreciate his own. Much hairier than anything I would ever have gone for in the past, but his body is gloriously defined, even with the amount of shit he eats. His pecks jump with his movements and I see his cock fully ready for a round.

That thought excites me.

"You look flush, love." He thumbs me, feeling how obviously swollen I am and slaps my clit again.

"Can you stop doing that!"

"What, this?" He does it again, biting his lip while raising his eyebrows, keeping himself on his knees between my legs. "Don't you trust me?"

"I do trust you."

"Good." He gets off the bed and I prop myself on my elbows, looking out after him as he leaves the bedroom. When he comes back his hands are behind his back.

" _Digger_ …" I say his name condescendingly. "What are you doing?"

"Let me see that pretty lil ring on those delightful fingers, bird." I show him my hand…

…Then he cuffs it, grabbing my other and pushing it above my head, slipping the cuffs between the headboard and securing my other hand. "I have work tomorrow." I try to point out. I know I'm in for a long night.

"I'm just leaving you with a lil' summit yeh won't forget."

The last thing I see is Digger's glinting eyes as he blindfolds me.

* * *

My first day on the job couldn't have gone any better. I have great co-workers. Jim is an extremely good looking guy who does the same role as me and made me feel more comfortable during the day with his constant entourage of how unfashionable people had become and how lame it was that he was beginning to lose his precious hair. But his husband tells him he's perfect the way he is.

Then I have the cook, which when it became quieter in-between breakfast and lunch, joined us out on the counter for a chat. She was the original person I spoke to who decided to give me a chance. Melissa. She looks typically like something out of Charlie's Angels with the hair and make-up but she is seriously one of the coolest people I've ever met. Mostly because she eyed up anything of the male species as they entered and they must have been at least twenty years younger than her.

As my shift comes to an end, we all help to clean and ready the place for the early start in the morning when they both call me over, telling me how well I'd done over a coffee and a brief run-down of tomorrow. I can't say I don't blush and don't appreciate it. But having run the bar ninety percent of the time on my own in the past, I would be surprised to hear otherwise.

The windchimes by the door sing and both of them look to the person who has entered, terrified and wide-eyed. "I'm sorry, we're closed." Melissa barks aggressively. But I almost choke on my coffee.

"No, it's okay!" I lightly touch her shoulder. "Meet my fiancée, Digger." I motion with my hand.

Jim's mouth hangs open at my ginormous Wookie, beanie-clad and looking broad in the middle of the room as he chews on a toothpick. " _Your_ …fiancée?" He asks.

" _Eat me, Lord_ ," Melissa mumbles coherently.

"Alright," Digger walks over, grabbing Jim's hand and shaking it enthusiastically. I see him eyeing him up though and realizing to himself that Jim is no threat. "Names Digger." Next, he shakes Melissa's. "I just came to pick up me Eunacorn."

"Your _Eunacorn_?" Jim mutters in confusion.

"Oh, that's me…" I take the last swig of my coffee. "It's just a silly name…thing…" How do I describe his obsession with Unicorns to my newest colleagues without freaking them out further? "I better get my coat."

As I run to go out back, Melissa whispers into my ear as I pass, "how do I get myself one of them?" And laughs. It's not the first time someone has asked me a similar question.

I'm quick to grab my stuff and I can hear Digger telling them a heated story as I enter back towards the main counter. Typical. I was only gone for a matter of seconds.

The two are enthralled, leaning on the counter towards him as he speaks expressively in his heavy accent, hands waving, proud of every word leaving his mouth. "…me ma always said 'when ya find a unicorn yah never let 'em go'…"

Oh, fuck me. Not this again.

"That is…" Jim begins, his face impassive then melting into something comical, "the most adorable thing I have _ever_ heard."

"Euna, sweetheart, why'd you not tell us about your man? You kept it quiet."

I stutter, looking between all three faces staring at me, "it was my first day. It didn't seem appropriate." How does Digger do this? It's got to be the accent that just sways people. It's totally unfair.

Throwing my arms in my jacket and putting on my black knitted hat, I walk next to Digger and he grabs either side of my face, pecking my forehead. "We gotta get going, lil' bird."

"I'll see you guys tomorrow." I wave sheepishly, wishing this moment was over already. Digger puts his hand in mine and leads me out of the café.

As we leave, I hear Jim again. "I've died… I've literally died." And yes, I do realize how lucky I am.

* * *

We stand outside the police station, Digger standing in front of me where I grip his arm. "You gotta go an speak with him. He's there now I checked before I got yah. We're runnin' out of time, doll." He turns his head, his face softening as I swallow dryly at what I know I must do. "Yah can do it." He reassures me, rubbing my arm.

"I don't even know what to say." My voice trembles and the panic rises in my chest. I know I must, and I knew this was coming. I was out of time now, it was the third day.

"Look, bring up Owen. Say you're concerned and ask if you could look at his file. If he let's ya, then there's ya answer. It's against the law to show a person usually. Hopefully that is enough for the clown." The toothpick in his mouth slips to the side as he wanders off in thought. "An it means ya don't have ta lie either."

"Okay." I take a step forward and he stops me, pulling me back and kissing my head again.

"Ya can do it. Ya not lying. And it's somethin' I know ya feel strongly about." He tucks my hair behind my ear. "An I love ya and I'll be waitin' outside."

I nod wordlessly, only looking back once as I take the steps and Digger nods confidently. The front is adorned with modern and incredibly clean glass situated in between the old brick building walls. The sign carved into the stone above my head reads, 'Gotham Police' and I take a deep breath, pushing the button on the side of the door to be buzzed through.

The counter in front of me has the specific design of the badge the police wear on their uniforms here, and an old guy with mustache watches me approach through the glass barrier around him. I smile weakly, exactly how my bladder is feeling right now…

"I, er…" I stammer and he squints at me. "I would like to speak with the new Chief of Police…" A police officer comes barging through the door to my side and I jump, trying to keep my cool. "It's a personal issue."

There's a long pause and I can feel myself beginning to panic. Then suddenly, he chirps, "if he's free," with a smile and I sigh in relief.

I can hear him say a brief description, pausing to catch my name with his hand over the receiver before continuing. He stands up when the phone is down, pushing a piece of paper through for me to write my name on and tells me I have to leave my bag, which I do, quickly.

"Right through there and turn left, he'll be waiting by the door." I nod, smiling lightly and follow his instruction, pushing the heavy door he buzzes me through.

The decoration is plain with one picture of a horse on the wall. I'm just about losing my bearings when I see the guy Joker had pointed out to me at the ball and he holds his hand out as I approach. "Gordon." He introduces himself, and I shake his hand.

"Eunice Evans."

"You're lucky, I was just on my way out."

"I'm sorry," I look to the ground. "I would've come sooner but I was afraid-"

"I'm not that scary." His smile is friendly and he shows me into the room. "Take a seat." I watch him round the desk and sit, clasping his hands. "You wanted to speak with me about something?"

"Uh, yeah, it's going to sound really stupid." I rub the back of my neck and unbutton my jacket to the overbearing heat in here. "I just wanted to speak up over a concern of mine."

"I'm all ears." He sits back casually, waiting patiently for me to continue.

"I don't usually get involved with stuff like this, but there is a little boy I'm worried about and wondered if anyone else had shown concern over his well-being."

"Touchy subject."

"That's why I just wanted to keep it between us." I laugh nervously to myself, realizing how much I shouldn't be here. "I probably shouldn't-" I try to stand and he holds his hand out.

"I get it. I do. I'm new and you're unsure of me. But it took guts to come in here. So please, at least finish what you started."

"I wanted to know whether there were other reports on a boy called Owen. I don't know his second name, but I've seen him scavenging for food in the evenings, late at night."

"It's a long shot. And I really can't be giving out personal information."

I think quickly, "I haven't been able to sleep properly thinking about him." His stare is intense as he roams over me for a second, sighing as he does so, and leans back to his computer.

"I'll do a small search, see if the name comes up, but that's all I can do for you at this moment. Domestic is something I don't usually get involved in."

"Please," I beg innocently. "It would really help."

Gordon grimaces for half a second. "Sure. Give me a minute." Inside I celebrate while trying to appear stoic. A few seconds and he tilts his head past the screen to look at me. "There has been one incident involving a child named Owen, but I can't give you the details. I'm sorry, but I hope it's enough to put your mind at rest."

"Oh…" I say with disappointment, looking down at my hands.

"Look…" A card is pushed across the desk to me. "This is my personal number. If there is any cause for concern, don't hesitate to contact me."

"Thank you."

"I could get into trouble over this so… try and keep it to yourself," he nods and I try to figure out whether he's joking or not as he technically hasn't done anything.

It's all very ironic and I try my friendliest smile regardless. "I won't." I stuff the card quickly in my pocket, confused now as to whether he would be willing to be swayed by someone like Joker and the fact that my word could cost him his life. "I'm glad we have someone like you taking over. I can't say I had any faith in the force before." And I mean it, I really do. This man sitting in front of me had a certain aura. I knew he was going to be a savior to a city like this one if he was given the chance. But the dice had already seemingly been rolled…but not in his favor.

"Wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the extreme crime rate, would it?" He smiles, showing his teeth as he does so.

"No, I just know a good guy when I see one."

He takes a minute, mulling over my words. "I'll do what it takes to put this city back together, you have my word…" He's confirmed my fears. "It was nice to meet you, Eunice." Gordon shows me back and wishes me well as I collect my bag and sign myself out.

Stepping out onto the concrete steps outside the station, Digger is waiting for me, questioning me with a look. I run down the steps and straight into his chest while he wraps his arms around me. "He won't work with Joker," I whisper into his jacket.

"Did he show ya the file? What do ya think?"

"He just said there was a report on Owen but gave me nothing else." I scrunch up the hem of his trench because the words are painful to say. "He's a good man, Digger."

Digger merely shrugs. "Shame."

* * *

His breathing is slow and steady under where I rest my head on his chest. He tells me things about Australia, his voice vibrating through me as he plays with my hand, more specifically the ring on my finger.

I know it's in distraction from having to call Joker earlier. It felt like condemning a man when I told him my thoughts and what I did earlier. Joker gave me no inclination on his next move towards the chief of police, but whatever it was it wouldn't be good. He all but hung up on me while laughing sardonically which has haunted me since.

It's dark, well into the early hours but I'm content like this now, feeling safe in our bubble. I'm unable to sleep though and Digger's fingers trail over the 'J' tattoo on my wrist. I twist my arm away to try and hide it.

"I've decided…" He says into the room, hesitating slightly. "I've decided what we're gonna do."

"Digger, let's not talk about this now." I've had enough for one day.

"No." He speaks firmly, his roaming fingers suddenly stopping along with his thoughts. "We're gonna do what yah said. I know now that we ain't getting' out of this for shit."

I can't remember what I said. "What does that mean?"

"I'm gonna buy a car in your name. We're fucking off from here. Far away. North. To a place no one will know us."

"We can do this how? We need jobs, money…"

" _Eunacorn_ …" He sighs. "You don't rob every bank in Australia and not come out a little well off. Why'd yah think I'm here?" He snorts.

"What's up with the duct tape boots then?"

"Image," he shrugs underneath me. "At one point I thought money was everythin'. Havin' fancy things. But it ain't."

"You said before that we couldn't-" I say, lifting my head to look at him.

"Fuck what I said. Nuffin' keepin' us 'ere. After this weekend, that's it, we're gone before he can use us again. I'm done." There is something different in his voice. He actually sounds emotional.

"What's changed your mind?"

"I can't look at your eyes an see the unknown, how scared ya are. We marry, get a car, pack your things an leave."

"What if he finds out?" I prop myself on my elbow, watching him stare at the ceiling.

Digger rubs his mutton chops quickly, "he won't. We go on as usual and we leave suddenly. Gain on him. Go on a day he hasn't asked for anythin' and he's none the wiser. By then it will be too hard to track us. But…" He turns looking at me. "I won't do anythin' unless yah agreed too."

I reach out, touching his face. "We're a team, and I trust you."

"I think you're officially the first person that ever has." His voice sounds dismal and it hurts to hear him like that. I straddle his hips, but he's ready for me with his hands gripping them tightly.

…That's the thing about Digger, he's two colossal people in one. He's Captain Boomerang, that fucks like his life depends on it, who doesn't give a shit and can switch off when needed to.

Then there is Digger, who opens up and behind closed doors; shows how he feels, even if it's only subtle. Digger who wants a family and tells you how much he loved his mum.

Both of them are in love with me.  
And I'm totally in it for the whole package.

I agree to his plan, after all, I'm his Stash, and he's my Captain Boomerang. We wouldn't be one without the other. But more importantly, he will soon be my husband.


End file.
